


Die Kaffeebohne

by clokkerfoot (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Coffee Shops, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6704107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is a manager with the Red Cross branch in New York. Erik is a coffee shop owner who works as a model on the side. When they meet and sparks (and coffee) fly, the only two mutants in the world realise they are more alike than they think.</p><p>(Written in 2014)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - Charles

**Author's Note:**

> References to domestic violence will be briefly made in later chapters.

"So, to conclude, I feel that..."

Charles was almost falling asleep. One on one meetings were bad enough, but when the person he was meeting with had incredibly selfish ulterior motives, Charles found himself drifting in and out of consciousness.

Taking a management job with the Red Cross in Manhattan was one of Charles' better life decisions, but he'd not met with a single candidate for an open position who wasn't in it for the money. He had been praised for his excellent decision-making when it came to selecting supporters and staff for every company he’d ever worked in. Honestly, being a telepath really helped.

This Azazel gentlemen wasn't 'insightful' or 'philanthropic', as he'd said at the start of his pitch. In fact, anyone who was a self-proclaimed philanthropist was generally  _ not  _ one.

"Mr Xavier?"

"Charles, please." He replied automatically. He hated it when people acted all formal around him.

"Charles. Are you alright?"

And he hated Manhattan accents. It felt like his ears had been bleeding ever since his plane landed. Charles sat up in his chair and pressed two fingers to his temple. Azazel’s thoughts were practically  _ sweating,  _ he was so anxious to get the job. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Azazel just looked at him expectantly.

Oh, bugger. He had to give feedback. And he’d been asleep for half the pitch. Another press of his fingers to his temple revealed Azazel’s thoughts about the meeting,  _ This guy has no idea what I just talked about, stupid idiot. _

“Sorry, Azazel.” Charles said with a gentle shake of his head, “I don’t think you have the right mindset to work for this company. Thank you for coming down here today.”

Azazel’s face flushed bright red, and for a second he looked exactly like a kid’s cartoon of a devil. Charles held back a snicker. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr Xavier. Fuck,  _ Charles _ . Sorry. I’ll let myself out.” His gentle exterior had crumbled the second Charles had dismissed him, and his true self was revealed. He ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Charles pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, his knees cracking in protest. He’d been sat listening to Azazel for nearly an hour, and he just wasn’t a young man anymore. His knees couldn’t cope with the lack of motion.

Charles sighed as he headed to the coffee maker. Only three more candidates to meet.

-

The building in which Charles' second meeting of the day was being held was proving impossible to find.

It was in the Red Cross hub, which Charles should technically be familiar with - considering he worked for the company - but he hadn’t visited the building yet. He’d mostly worked from his apartment, or flitted between various offices around the city.

After wandering around the still-unfamiliar streets of Manhattan for an hour, Charles had lost hope. Google Maps kept switching between 54th St and 66th St, and this incongruity between results was practically making Charles pull his hair out. His meeting was in thirty minutes, and he suddenly regretted not accepting the free taxi that his building had offered him. 

No amount of shaking his phone was speeding up his internet connection, and he had somehow ended up in a shopping district somewhere around 55th St. His  _ least  _ favourite place to be. 

He looked up from his phone and saw a building that comforted him. If there was a bookshop in this crazy place, it couldn’t be too bad. After narrowly dodging a cyclist, he stepped into the shop and walked up to a friendly-looking assistant who was sorting books into bargain bins near the doorway.

“Hello.” Charles said by way of greeting.

She looked up, slightly startled, then smiled, “Hello. Can I help you?”

Charles nodded, “Can you tell me where 49th St is?” 

The assistant - Angel, her nametag said - pursed her lips, then launched into an explanation. Charles quickly pulled up his notepad app and typed down the directions. She grinned at him when she was done, “Was I much help, darlin’?”

He nodded his head again, and held out his hand. She looked at him strangely, then shook his hand. Charles had met very few New Yorkers who weren’t shocked by a handshake, so he figured that people were just politer in England and North Salem. “Thank you very much.”

He had just turned and was making his way out of the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Angel. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you Charles Xavier? The charity guy?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re such a hero. All those poor kids you help!” She was looking at him with an utterly rapt expression on her face. Charles just smiled and edged his way out of the door. He wasn’t in the charity business for the fame, but he’d somehow become the company’s poster boy in the four months since he’d arrived in Manhattan. Raven - his agent - said it was because he was ‘pretty’.

Charles just wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He practically ran down the streets, staring straight at his phone screen, anxiously praying that he could find his way to 49th St before the meeting started. A few commuters screamed profanities at Charles as he ran against the flow of pedestrians, but he ignored them.

Once or twice, he had to stop running so he could slump against a wall and catch his breath. He vowed that he would go to the gym as soon as he could as he stood, panting, in an air-conditioned doorway.

He rounded a corner into one of the quieter side streets of 49th St and increased his pace, in spite of his burning muscles, his feet pounding against the pavement as he sped down the road.

Charles wasn't really sure why he found himself falling backwards onto the floor. He also wasn't really sure why there was a man suddenly straddling him. 


	2. Chapter 2 - Erik

Erik really hadn’t expected to end up straddling a man today. And, hell, he would’ve enjoyed it, if the guy in question wasn’t the  _ ridiculously  _ wealthy and prominent charity figure, Charles fucking Xavier.

He’d been carrying coffee, too, so where had the coffee- shit. Oh, shit.

Charles was lying under him, groaning slightly - it must be quite difficult having a 180lb man unexpectedly fall on you so early in the morning - and he was absolutely drenched in coffee. Erik swore and sat up.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, sir.” He blurted out as he threw the coffee cups to one side and tried to mop up as much of the coffee as he could with his apron. Charles tilted his head and looked at him, confusion plastered on his features. Erik stopped patting Charles’ shirt with his apron and stared at him.

“What happened?” Charles said blankly, his voice slightly breathless. He had a very strong English accent. Erik had only ever seen him in posters, and in adverts where he didn’t speak. It was strangely fitting.

“Uh, well, sir, I may have accidentally, well, run into you. Or, er, you ran into me.”

Charles just laughed dryly, “That’s what I get for running without watching where I’m going, I suppose.” He tried to sit up, and Erik realised he was still straddling his hips. Erik scrambled backwards and stood, apologies falling out of his mouth.

Charles stood, and wiped down his suit. It was completely sodden, and his white shirt was now an unpleasant beige colour. He looked down at his phone, which was lying on the pavement, the screen smashed and cracked beyond any repair. 

Erik swore, “Shit, I am so sorry. I’ll- I’ll pay for damages, I’ll do any-”

Erik stopped speaking when Charles held up his hand and sighed. “It’s not a problem. I needed an excuse to get a new phone.” He picked up the broken phone and slipped it into his satchel.

“Please, let me do something.” Erik grabbed Charles by the upper arm and dragged him into his shop. Charles spluttered some form of complaint, but didn’t actually say anything coherent. Erik pulled Charles past his assistant without any explanation, and continued until they were in the storeroom.

Erik left Charles in the storeroom and ran up to his apartment. He grabbed his best shirt - it wasn’t exactly going to fit Charles, considering how short he was compared to Erik, but it was better than nothing - and returned to the storeroom. Charles was rummaging through the boxes of coffee on the shelves, sniffing each one in turn.

“Ah, hello.” Charles said once Erik entered the room. “You know, usually before a gentleman drags me into his home,” Charles gently placed a box of New Orleans roast back on the shelf, and turned to face Erik, “He buys me dinner first.”

Erik smiled, “I just wanted to give you a clean shirt, as a sort of apology.” He held up the shirt, “I’m sure you’re a busy man.”

Charles laughed at that. Did he know that Erik knew who he was? He wasn’t exactly a widespread public figure, but in the district around 49th St, he was quite well known. His face was plastered on the side of the Nomura building, for god’s sake.

“I  _ am  _ a busy man. I have a meeting soon, actually.” He looked down at his watch and his eyes widened, “In ten minutes. Bloody hell. Give me the shirt, please.”

Erik gladly handed it over. Without sparing him a second thought, Charles shrugged his jacket off, undid his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. With every button that popped open, more and more of Charles’ torso was revealed. Erik didn’t really want to look away.

He wasn't exactly toned, and Erik had a strong desire to squeeze the gentle padding on his hips and around his waistline. He'd always held a secret penchant for men who carried a little extra weight, and Charles had the most delightful body he'd ever seen.

Charles glanced at Erik as he slid the shirt off his shoulders, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare?”

He sounded like he was joking. Erik hoped he was. He didn’t get to see hot guys get naked very often. Even at photoshoots, it was usually only him who had to get undressed. His agent Raven said it was because he was the only one who was naturally toned, or something like that. Sounded like a load of bullshit to him.

Charles quickly buttoned up Erik’s shirt, his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh as he saw how big it was on him. The shirt made him look even shorter, if that was possible. Erik laughed into his fist as Charles tucked the tail into his suit pants and fixed his tie back around his neck. The neck was a whole other matter; the collar was at least two inches too wide for him. He didn’t bother with his jacket, as it was covered in coffee too.

“I’ll go  _ ohne Jacke _ .” Charles said with a smirk. Without jacket.

“You speak German?” Erik said, surprised.

“Only a little. The name of this shop and the fact that you live above it suggests that you’re German.” Charles looked very pleased with himself, and Erik was a little impressed. “ _ Die Kaffeebohne _ . The Coffee Bean. Very nice.”

Erik could’ve kissed him. No one  _ ever  _ pointed out the name of the shop. Then again, he seemed to be the only German-speaker living in the East 49th St district, so he could hardly be surprised by that.

“Anyway, I must dash.” Charles said, running his hand through his hair. It bounced on his head when his hand dropped. Erik resisted the urge to run forward and touch it. “Do I look alright?”

He span on the spot.

“You look…  _ wunderschön _ .” Erik said quietly, and honestly.

“I don’t know that word.”

Erik grinned, “Google it.”

Charles pressed two fingers to his temple, as if he was soothing a headache, then smiled back at Erik, “I will. Thank you.” And then, just like that, he was gone. Erik watched him go, then picked up his sodden jacket and shirt, and took them up to his flat.

After putting them in the washing machine, he sat and stared out the window at the busy road beneath him. He wondered if Charles would ever return.


	3. Chapter 3 - Charles

When Charles arrived at the meeting, the candidate looked at his shirt and raised an eyebrow. 

Charles blushed. He wasn't sure why. 

"Shall we begin?" Charles said after introducing himself, his voice amplified by faux confidence. He sat behind the desk and listened as the gentleman - Alex, his name was - launched into a well prepared speech. 

He tried to pay attention in this meeting, he really did, but in spite of Alex's genuinely good intentions, Charles' thoughts were directed towards the absolutely heavenly scent that was drifting up from the stranger's shirt. It smelled like wet earth, like an icy wind, like old books and gnarled oak trees, like nature and all the smells Charles missed from England.

It smelled like home. 

Charles snuggled down into the shirt. How could a stranger's shirt make him feel so content?

Except, he wasn't a stranger. His name was Erik. When Charles had tapped into his thoughts for half a second, just to get the translation of  _ wunderschön  _ (it meant  _ very beautiful _ ), he'd accidentally caught his name.

Erik. Erik Lehnsherr. So very German, so very perfect.

It sounded oddly familiar though.

"Charles?"

He was shook out of his reverie. Alex was stood with his hands folded behind his back, waiting expectantly. 

"Sorry, I got a little preoccupied there."

"Not a problem."

Charles tapped two fingers on his temple. Alex's thoughts sounded very genuine and very excited. "Honestly, Alex. You're the best candidate I've ever seen. Welcome to the team."

He stood up and shook the beaming Alex's hand, then headed downstairs to the building's reception. Raven was waiting for him. He walked straight past her, and she stepped straight along with him, hardly missing a beat before she started scolding him.

"You really picked the second candidate, without even seeing the others?" 

"Yes, Raven. Alex has potential." Charles pulled his phone out of satchel before he remembered that it was broken.

Raven stared at it, "Jesus, Charles, what happened to your phone?"

Charles smiled, "I had an incident with a guy."

"That just sounds  _ gay _ ."

"Nothing like that, Raven. He crashed into me on one of those little side roads near here. Or, maybe I crashed into him." He slowed his walking pace as he ran over the morning's incident in his head. "There was coffee everywhere."

Raven stopped in her tracks. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, coffee. That bean drink that fuels half this city." He said, mockingly, "Are you alright?"

He didn't bother trying to read her thoughts. Raven was very good at keeping secrets, even if she did it subconsciously.

"Yes, I'm fine." She said suddenly, "I just know a guy who runs a coffee shop around here."

"Oh, alright." Charles said absently as he resumed walking down the steps towards the road. He called over his shoulder, "I'll meet with the next candidate, but not the one after that. Ring him and cancel, won't you, Raven?"

"Yeah! Sure!" Raven shouted after him. 

Charles headed down the road to the next building. He actually knew where this one was. The woman behind the reception desk said he had to wait for a while, as their designated meeting room was still being used.

He sat down in the waiting room and picked up one of the magazines on the table. It was TIME magazine. Honestly, he was not a fan of magazines like TIME, but he had some time to kill and his phone was unable to provide its usual entertainment. 

There was a six page spread featuring up-and-coming male models. He scanned over them all absently. There were some beautifully toned young men posing for the camera in underwear, swimwear, formal clothes, casual clothes. There was even one man who was stark naked, facing away from the camera, peering over his shoulder with a smouldering look in his eyes.

Charles turned to the third page, and he nearly fell out of his chair.

In the middle of the page, photographed leaning against a daunting black motorbike, dressed in distressed jeans, a tight white t-shirt and a tan leather jacket, was Erik.

He was looking away from the camera, gazing upwards. But his lips were slightly parted, his eyes were an intense stormy grey, and there was a decent amount of stubble on his jaw. He looked absolutely gorgeous.

Charles  _ knew _ he'd seen Erik somewhere before, and the little white letters printed next to the image proved that it definitely was him.

"Erik. Modelling." Charles said to himself as he rubbed his chin. "What a surprise."

After staring at the photograph for a few moments, he threw the magazine on the table and stood. He marched over to the receptionist and slid his ID across the desk, "Please cancel my six o'clock meeting with Scott Summers. Something's come up."

She nodded and picked up the phone, her eyes watching him cautiously as he left the building.

Charles hailed a taxi and headed for his apartment. He needed to see Erik before the day was over.


	4. Chapter 4 - Erik

Erik liked Tuesdays.

Of all the days of the week, Tuesday was the quietest in  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ , and he appreciated the down-time. 

Now, at seven o'clock, the sun had set and only the streetlights and moonlight were lighting the shop, streaming in through the gaps between the closed blinds and creating an eerie glow throughout the room.

He swiped a damp cloth across the table nearest the door and whistled a tune he'd heard on the radio that day. Riptide - his only assistant in the shop - walked past him, held up his hand by way of farewell, and Erik acknowledged him with a particularly loud whistle.

The door closed behind him and Erik dropped the cloth. When Riptide left, he could really have fun. He held out his hand, palm flat, picked up all the cutlery and metal utensils in the shop and, still whistling freely, pushed them over to the sink in the corner behind the counter.

They danced across the room in a line to the tune of Erik's song.

Since moving to New York, he'd found it far easier to use his powers. New Yorkers  _ really _ didn't care what other people did with their time, and if they ever saw Erik moving metal they'd probably just assume it was magic, or a trick of the light. His whistling parade was cut short when there was a loud knock at the door.

Erik dropped everything. It all crashed to the floor with a shattering explosion of steel on tile, and he winced. 

He looked up at the door.  _ Oh, for fuck's sake _ , he thought. It was Charles. He had decided to return after all. 

He walked over to the door and pointed to the CLOSED sign that was hanging on the door. Charles stared up at him with the most innocent puppy-dog expression on his face, and Erik nearly collapsed. He'd never met a man who could be so infuriatingly cute and hot at the same time.

"Hi!" Charles said, his voice slightly muffled through the glass. 

"Hey."

"Will you let me in?"

Erik glanced over his shoulder, "Uh, it's a bit of a mess in here."

"God, whatever mess you've got in there, you should see my bedroom." Charles chuckled and leant his forehead against the door, "It's such a mess."

"Was that an invitation into your bedroom?" Erik smiled. "Only, usually before a gentleman brings me into his home, he buys me dinner first."

Charles laughed at that, his lips parting and showing a row of straight white teeth as peals of laughter erupted from him. "Oh, you flirt."

Erik only grinned more, "Flirt is my middle name."

"Let me in. I've got your shirt." He held up Erik's shirt as proof as his laughter died down. "Plus, I want to say thank you."

Erik supposed he did need to give Charles his jacket and shirt back. He'd ironed them himself just a few hours prior, something he didn't usually do, even to his own clothes. "Fine."

He undid the catch on the door and opened it to let Charles inside. Charles stepped through the doorway, and smiled up at Erik. Charles was wearing faded jeans, a white shirt with a subtle grey grid pattern, a loosely tied tie, and a form-fitting grey waistcoat. Did this man not have a casual dress style?

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced." He held out his hand, and Erik accepted it. What a strange man Charles was proving to be. "I'm Charles Xavier."

"Erik Lehnsherr."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Erik." Charles said, his lips turning up in an innocent smile that made Erik's knees go weak. Charles diverted his gaze into the main part of the shop, and his eyes widened when he saw the cutlery spread across the floor. "Are you cleaning up?"

"I just- um... I dropped a few forks."

Erik looked down at the hundreds of forks on the floor. He cursed inwardly.

"Not to worry!" Charles threw Erik's shirt onto a table. Then he dropped to his knees in front of Erik and his heart missed a beat. Seeing Charles knelt in front of him, his gorgeous mouth just begging to be fucked-- "Erik? Are you in there?"

_ I wish I was. _

"Ah, sorry. Got a little distracted." Erik said. He knelt beside Charles, and started picking up the cutlery. 

They actually got the job done in less than five minutes. They hardly spoke as they gathered up the cutlery, but Erik didn't mind. It was an overwhelmingly comfortable silence. 

Afterwards, they had tea. Charles produced a few teabags from his satchel - Erik had only visited England once in his life, but he'd never met an Englishman who carried emergency teabags - and within a few minutes they were sat on one of the tables with two steaming mugs of Earl Grey in their hands.

"I don't like coffee." Erik said suddenly.

Charles smiled into his tea, "Why did you open a coffee shop then?"

"Demand." Erik swallowed a mouthful of tea, "I wanted to start my life over in New York, and it just seemed like opening a coffee shop was the right thing to do."

Charles nodded like he understood. He inhaled sharply, "I came to New York to start over, too."

"Why?"

"You first, Erik."

Erik frowned. He'd never told anyone the reason he moved to New York, not even his mama.

"I'm not sure I can." He said honestly, "I've never told anyone this, and truthfully, Charles, you're practically a stranger."

"Alright. I'll go first." Charles placed his mug on the table and folded his hands across his lap. "I lived in England when I was younger. My father died in a car crash when I was four years old. I don’t remember much about him.” Charles stared down at his hands and sighed.

“My mother married a man named Kurt, who beat her." Charles' face twisted into a scowl, "I hated that man, and his son, Cain, who he had from another marriage. My stepfather abused Cain. Cain abused me."

"Charles, you don't need to--"

"I-- I found out that Kurt only wanted my mother's money. And, when I was twelve, my mother died. The doctors told me it was a broken heart. I knew it was Kurt who had done it. For the money, of course." Charles paused, and Erik saw that his eyes were glistening, "I graduated Oxford University with honours when I was sixteen years old, and then I came to North Salem for a few years. When Kurt died the Xavier estate was left to me, and I had to return to England. I came back to New York four months ago."

Charles fell silent. Erik resisted the urge to rub Charles' thigh. Well, if Charles could share his story, then Erik could certainly share his.

"I was engaged to a man called Sebastian." Charles looked up at Erik when he spoke, with an odd expression on his face, "I thought I loved him. Hell, maybe I did. We were due to get married nine years ago, but the night before our wedding he--" Erik took a deep breath. He hadn't ever told anyone this. Not a goddamn soul. "He raped me, and beat me half to death. He thought I was sleeping with my assistant. Accused me of sleeping with his sister, Emma, too. Even though he knew I was gay, he thought I would cheat on him. He broke my fucking heart.”

Charles was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable, "What happened to him?"

"He died, not longer after. Cancer.” Erik took in a sharp breath, “I travelled for five years, and I decided to settle in Manhattan.”

Erik realised that he was crying, and he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. He felt Charles envelop him in a hug, and he allowed himself to be cradled in his arms, just for a moment. One moment of weakness.

"I'll be honest with you, Erik. This isn't how I thought this date was going to go."

Erik snorted into Charles' shoulder. "Is this a date?"

Charles laughed quietly, then gently rubbed a circle into Erik's back with his hand, "Was it ever anything else?"

_ No _ , Erik thought to himself,  _ it wasn't _ .

Charles smiled into Erik’s hair like he'd heard.


	5. Chapter 5 - Charles

Charles hadn’t wanked in the shower since he was a teenager.

He usually had a partner with which to get sexual gratification, and he hardly ever woke up with an erection anymore. However, over the past three days, since his and Erik’s unofficial date - if he  _ and  _ Erik both thought it was a date, then wasn’t it technically a date? - he’d been waking up frustrated and desperate for release.

He was refusing to make the link between his persistent arousal and Erik.

Even though he didn’t really want to, he wrapped his hand around himself and-- oh, god, it’d been so long. He leant back against the shower wall and muffled his sounds of pleasure with his free hand. Charles could feel heat flushing his skin as his hand moved faster.

“Don’t think about Erik, don’t think about Erik, don’t think about Erik.” He whispered into the back of his hand.

For some reason, he couldn’t stop images of Erik flooding his mind. Erik knelt before him, his mouth doing unholy things to Charles. Charles’ mouth doing the very same unholy things to Erik. Charles bent over a desk as Erik stood behind him, a hand in his hair as they moved in tandem. The two of them sliding together on the sofa, fully clothed, but desperate for more...

His pleasure peaked, and as Charles slid down the wall onto the floor following the flood of sensation, he decided it didn’t matter that he fantasised about Erik. It’s not like he was going to  _ act  _ on his desires.

He wanted a friendship from Erik, not a one-time shag that ruined everything. Or at least he  _ thought _ that was what he wanted. 

Charles climbed out of the shower, pulled on his favourite pair of jeans and a semi-coordinated shirt and tie. No waistcoat today; the weather was beginning to get warmer.

As he half-heartedly dried his hair with a towel, he picked up his phone and called Raven. She answered on the second ring. “Hey, Raven.”

“Charles. What did I say about wanking before meetings?”

Charles nearly dropped his phone, “Raven!”

“I can tell, y’know. Your voice is all husky and weird.”

“That's utter shite.”

“Nope, I’ve had plenty of male clients over the years. I can tell. You’re no exception, Charles Xavier.” She sounded very pleased with herself. Charles threw his damp towel over the back of the sofa in his front room. A vision from his shower fantasies flashed through his mind, and he blushed. “No wanking before meetings!”

“It doesn’t matter, Raven.” He put his phone on speaker, laid it on the coffee table, and slipped his socks and shoes on.

“Of course it matters!”

“No, it doesn’t matter today. I’m cancelling all my meetings.”

Raven’s barely restrained shriek of exasperation came through the phone speakers, louder than usual, “For the third day in a row?!”

“Yep.”

“Charles.” She paused, breathing heavily, “I know you have a social life or whatever, but you’re still very new to Red Cross.You need to keep them sweet.”

“I’ll come back… eventually. I’m writing, I’m not socialising.”

“Writing. That’s okay, then.”

Charles grinned. He was  _ technically  _ writing. But he was writing in  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ , so it was a little bit of socialising, too. He’d been going there every day for three days, and Erik had been thrilled to see him every single time he’d come through the door.

“See you later, Charles. Have fun writing.”

“Bye.”

She hung up before he could. He gathered his laptop, notepad, and his wallet into his satchel. He walked from his apartment straight to the  _ Apple  _ store on Fifth Avenue, and picked up one of the new iPhones. It’d been hard functioning without a phone, but he’d been so distracted by Erik he’d forgotten to buy a new one.

Erik.  _ Erik _ . 

Charles smiled to himself as he wandered back to 49th St, his new phone waiting, unopened, in his satchel. He could sort out the setup when he was at  _ Die Kaffeebohne. _ Maybe Erik could help him.

After a long but surprisingly pleasant walk in the sun, he ended up outside the coffee shop. He checked his reflection in the window of the craft supply shop next door, then marched straight into the shop. Erik looked up at his entrance and his entire face lit up with joy. Charles couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his lips.

He’d only been away from Erik for a night, but he’d missed him so much.

“Good morning, Charles.” Erik said happily as Charles walked towards the counter.

And his  _ voice.  _ That voice alone was a gift.

“Mornin’, Erik.” He replied as he leant forward on the counter. Erik watched him with bright eyes as Charles studied the menu above his head. “Double caramel macchiato, please.”

“Coming right up.” Erik swept around the various machines and cupboards, and Charles watched him eagerly. Even though Erik said he hated coffee, he was definitely in his element when he had steamed milk and coffee beans in his hands.

Charles thought he flicked on the coffee maker without touching it, but he wasn’t going to say anything.

“I bought a phone today.”

“Oh?”

“That new iPhone. If you’re free in a while, you can help me set it up, if you like.”

Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles as the coffee maker spat hot milk into a mug, “A genius like you can’t set up an iPhone? What is the world coming to?”

“Don’t be so cocky.” Charles slid a $5 bill across the counter as Erik balanced the now-full mug on a little saucer. “It looks far too good on you.”

Erik grinned, “So kind, Charles.” He fiddled around with the till for a moment, then gave Charles a dollar change. 

“One day I’ll get coffees for free.”

“One day.”

Charles picked up his mug and walked over to his usual table, the one in the corner with a frosted window. He pulled out his laptop, opened up his  _ One In Seven Billion _ document, and started writing. After drafting a few paragraphs, he remembered his drink. He was about to swallow a mouthful when he noticed the pattern of the milk on the surface of the espresso.

It was a heart.

Charles suddenly decided that the main character in his novel would have a love interest.


	6. Chapter 6 - Erik

After spending the entire morning with his fist in his mouth, rutting desperately against a pillow to relieve some of the pent-up sexual frustration he was experiencing, Erik was anxious for Charles to arrive in the the shop. 

To say that Erik appreciated Charles’ face would be a gross understatement.

So, when he arrived and flirted his way through an entire conversation, Erik had to concentrate especially hard on making the drink so that he didn’t leap across the counter and fuck Charles in the middle of the shop.

Charles sat at his usual table and typed away, as he had been doing for the past three days. Erik kept himself busy, cleaning and re-cleaning the coffee maker. Just  _ looking  _ at Charles drove him half mad with desire. When he thought about it, it wasn’t just desire. There was something else there. Another emotion, terrifying and beautiful, all at the same time, simmering just below the surface.

At one o’clock, when the shop was empty, Charles came over and ordered another double caramel macchiato.

“That last one was absolutely delightful, Erik.” He said, his eyes sparkling. Erik found himself resisting the urge to kiss Charles  _ again _ .

“Glad you liked it.”

Charles suddenly pushed himself up with his arms and sat on the counter. He threw his head back, leant on his hands, and let out a groan. Erik had to force his gaze away from the tight lines of Charles’ neck tendons that quivered beneath his skin. He was glad Charles was the only person in the shop. “My shoulders are killing. Typing on a high surface is just  _ hell  _ for your deltoids.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Massage me.” Charles said quietly.

Erik looked up. Charles was looking over his shoulder, with a smouldering expression on his face. Erik gulped. “W-what?”

“Massage me.” He repeated.

“No, no, I heard you. Just…  _ what _ ?”

Charles held Erik’s gaze, his lips half-parted, and for a moment Erik felt like he and Charles were the only two people in the entire world. Charles winked and looked away from Erik.

Erik took a step forwards, towards the counter, and raised his hands. He reached out and placed his hands on Charles’ shoulders. Charles shivered and arched back into Erik’s light touch. Erik held back a moan.

He started to massage Charles’ shoulders, pushing the heel of his hands into the pliable skin beneath them. Charles let out a keening whine when Erik’s fingers found the dip of his collarbone, and Erik couldn’t formulate words. He almost leant forward and kissed the nape of Charles’ neck, but when his hands found a particularly knotted muscle Charles moaned aloud and pushed back into Erik’s touch.

_ Fuck. Why does this turn me on?  _ Erik thought as he shifted his position to hide his arousal. He’d already gotten off three times that morning, and he  _ really  _ didn’t need to do it again.

“Erik--” Charles whined.

Then Erik decided he couldn’t stand it anymore. He dropped his hands, much to Charles’ disapproval, and practically ran round to the front of the counter. Charles stared at him, his pupils blown black, a very obvious erection under his jeans.

_ He gets turned on by it too _ . Erik’s mind whispered triumphantly.

Erik took a step forward and cupped Charles’ face with both of his hands. Charles inhaled sharply and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. They were so close, Erik could see every detail of Charles’ irises, could see every black lightning fork that split the vibrant peacock blue.

“Erik?” Charles said quietly, his voice thick with  _ desire. _

Erik leaned forward, eyes closed, and gently pressed his lips against Charles’. Charles let out a breath of surprise, and then there was a hand in Erik’s hair, another on the side of his neck, pulling him tighter against Charles. Erik’s lips parted in surprise at Charles’ demand for closeness, and he was even more surprised when Charles took the opportunity to turn it in a  _ real  _ kiss. The sudden hot, enveloping need for more that flared between their open mouths was making Erik dizzy.

Then the door to the shop opened with a  _ ding!  _ of the welcoming bell, and they sprang apart like they had been electrocuted. In walked a woman with two children, who were jumping up and down excitedly. Erik wiped his mouth and awkwardly greeted them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charles jump down from the counter and return to his seat by the frosted window.

-

Seven o’clock rolled around, and Erik was run off his feet. After the woman with the two children had left, an entire tourist group arrived and they all wanted different drinks.

Charles had sat in the corner the entire time, nursing his macchiato, typing away.

However, when the clock ticked over to seven, Charles stood and walked over to Erik, his laptop in his hands. Erik wiped his hands with a cloth and met Charles halfway. Nothing had changed between them, and it was as if the kiss hadn’t happened. Erik wasn’t sure if he was grateful or sad.

“Thank you for earlier, Erik.”

“What for?”

“The massage. It’s really loosened my shoulders up. In fact, I got a whole chapter drafted.” Charles grinned and held out the laptop. “I want you to read it.”

“Chapter…” Erik mused. “You’re writing a book?”

Erik had always wanted to write a book. But, what with him having two jobs and an awful lot of responsibilities, he just couldn't find the free time to even  _ think _ about planning a book, let alone actually  _ write _ it. 

“Of course. It’s about a telepath.” Charles said confidently. It was certainly a bold opening statement for someone who, as far as Erik knew, was a first-time author. “He moves to a different country so he can work to pay off his brother’s medical fees, and he accidentally falls in love.”

“Oh?” Erik scanned over the writing - half of which was highlighted with comments and alterations to be made - and it was, predictably, littered with complicated words and featured an endless litany of long sentences.  _ Very Charles _ , he thought.

Charles smiled, “Do you like it?”

“I mean…” Erik searched for the right words, “It’s very good. I wouldn’t say it was my  _ style,  _ persay. Not enough in-your-face romance. And the brother doesn’t seem too worthy of Martin’s efforts.”

Erik handed the laptop back to Charles, who looked at him thoughtfully, “In-your-face romance. Is that what you like?”

Erik nodded, “I’m such a sap when it comes to books. Honestly, my favourite book is  _ Can You Keep A Secret? _ It’s written for middle aged women, but I'm such a fan.”

Charles was staring at Erik, biting his lip as his face gradually reddened. 

“Are you laughing at me, Charles Xavier?”

A snort of laughter slipped from Charles’ lips.

“I could talk about Sophie Kinsella novels for  _ years _ , Charles, don’t test me!”

That broke him. Charles exploded into a fit of laughter that had him bent over double as he clutched at his laptop, gasping for breath. Erik watched him, thoroughly amused, as he almost fell onto the floor from the force of his laughs. 

“Something funny, Xavier?” He said, in his cockiest voice.

Charles looked up at him, his face red, tears streaming down his cheeks as he continued to shake with laughter that his lungs could no longer sustain. “S-Sophie Kinsella? You  _ actually  _ read--  _ Sophie Kinsella _ ?”

“I’m a fan, yes.”

“Oh, jesus, Erik.” Charles stood and tucked his laptop under his arm. With his free hand, he wiped his eyes and sniffed. “Sophie bloody Kinsella. Of all the authors!”

“Don’t get me started on  _ Confessions of a Shopaholic _ .” Erik said confidently.

“You’re practically a woman, Erik.”

“I think you’ll find  _ you’re  _ the woman, Charles.”

_ Shit. Did I say that out loud? _ Charles gave no impression that the slight innuendo he’d just made had registered in his head, “Anyway, I best be heading home. I have a meeting early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, okay.”

Charles turned and headed for his table, his laptop in both of his hands now. Before he reached the table, he turned on the spot and, in an instant, everything went to shit.

Charles tripped over something - his feet? A stray shoelace?- and his laptop slipped out of his hands and sailed through the air, headed straight for the wall. Erik automatically reached out for it with his hand and stabilised it in midair, then sent it flying towards his own hands. Charles hit the floor with a thud, and Erik prayed that he hadn’t seen him catch the laptop.

He quickly darted over to Charles, placed the laptop on the floor beside him, and helped him up. “Are you alright?”

Charles’ gaze flicked from Erik to the laptop, then back to Erik. He held his breath.

_ This is it. This is the end. He’s gonna freak out. It’s all over for me. _ Erik thought glumly as Charles stared at him.


	7. Chapter 7 - Charles

Charles saw it. Of course he saw it. The trajectory of that laptop had his professional career doomed before he’d even hit the ground. Laptops didn’t move horizontally against their forward direction whilst in flight, unless…

Erik’s panicked thoughts flooded Charles when Erik knelt down to help him and touched his arm.

“You- you caught my laptop?” Charles asked.

“Yeah.” Erik said. Charles hadn’t made any effort to get himself off the floor, so he was a little surprised when Erik looped his arms under Charles’ arms, and pulled him into a standing position. God, he was strong.

_ Of course he’s strong. He can control metal _ . Charles’ mind whispered. He didn’t know that for sure, but suddenly everything made sense. 

He thought he’d imagined the cutlery levitating in the cafe earlier that week, and he’d put it down to stress from the meetings, or from Raven yelling at him about cancelling them. Then, Erik seemingly turning on the coffee maker without even  _ touching  _ it. Charles had put that down to an automated machine, or something like that. But then, his laptop, literally flying across the room, straight into Erik’s hand.

Once is chance. Twice is coincidence. Three is a pattern.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Charles? You look a little out of sorts.”

Erik’s thoughts were absolutely drenched in manic stress, and Charles didn’t even need to press his fingers to his temple to be able to hear them.

_ Does he know? Well, of course he doesn't know. No one can control metal, that's such a stupid idea. But he's so  _ **_smart_ ** _. What if he guessed? Oh fuck, I am so screwed.  _

So he actually could control metal. Holy shit.

"I'm fine. Good, even. Thank you so much for catching my laptop." Charles touched Erik's upper arm as a more personal way of saying thank you.

Erik's thoughts calmed down a little bit, but he was still panicking.

"Are  _ you _ alright?" 

"Y-yeah." Erik pointed at Charles' satchel on the table. "Shall we set up your phone?"

Charles smiled and picked his laptop up from the floor. He carefully carried it over to his satchel and slid it inside, then pulled out the boxed iPhone. Erik had taken a seat at one of the wide tables, and he patted his knees.

"You want me to sit on your lap?"

"Of course."

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Charles walked slowly over to Erik and lowered himself into his lap. Erik grunted.

"Go easy on the cake from now on, Charles."

Charles smacked Erik's leg in response, which just made him laugh. Charles could feel every muscle and tendon of Erik's thighs, groin and chest ripple beneath him as they settled into a comfortable position for the both of them. He silently prayed that the press of Erik's slight arousal against his arse wasn't going to distract him too much. 

As they set to work, Charles discovered quite happily that, in spite of what seemed to be a mutual desire for one another, they worked quite well together. Erik assisted when Charles got confused, and Charles cherished the moments when Erik looped his arms around his torso and cuddled him.

And, if Charles had maybe rotated his hips and pushed down onto Erik's erection once or twice, Erik's quiet moans and surprised gasps weren't mentioned by either of them.

Charles vaguely wondered when they had gone from friends to... whatever this was. It had only been five days since they were total strangers.

"And... that's it, I think." He announced, instead of voicing his thoughts.

"Not quite." Erik's right hand suddenly took hold of the phone, and Charles leant back into the gap between Erik's free arm and his chest, snuggling himself into Erik's warmth. He'd never felt more comfortable around a person. Erik's thumbs danced across the screen, and...

"Are you adding your phone number?"

"Of course."

There it was again, that  _ duh!  _ tone of voice that Erik had been using all day. 

"And your home number?"

"Of course."

Charles grinned. Erik brought up the camera app, raised the phone until they were both in shot, and snapped a picture of them. They really did look good together, Erik's left arm curled protectively around Charles' chest as his right held up the phone. Erik had a blissful expression on his face, and Charles was smiling at the camera.

Erik set the picture as his own contact photo, then laid the phone on the table. 

Charles shifted himself around - ignoring Erik's noises of protest - until he was straddling Erik's thighs, face to face with him.

He leant forward and captured Erik's lips in what he hoped was a chaste kiss. Erik's breathy moan and the possessive hand that grabbed at Charles' lower back told him that it hadn't been as chaste as he'd thought. He had to resist the urge to roll his hips down into Erik's lap.

He pulled away, and noticed that Erik's cheeks were flushed.

"What was that for?" He whispered.

"Just a little thank you." Charles said. He ran a finger down the curve of Erik's neck, and held back a laugh when Erik shivered and arched his neck instinctively. "For helping with my phone. For saving my laptop. For everything."

Erik moved forward, his lips parted, his eyes burning with desire, but Charles pulled away and tutted. Erik actually  _ whined _ . 

"We have to leave  _ something _ to the imagination, Erik."

"No, no we don't." Erik replied almost desperately, and he pushed forward again. His thoughts were brimming with all manner of dirty visions.

Charles withdrew even further, until his back was pressed against the edge of the table. Erik persisted, his lips finding an unstable home on his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He found himself pulling farther and farther away, until he was laid on the table with Erik between his legs, hovering above him.

Erik's knee was between Charles' thighs, and he squirmed. In an instant, Erik grabbed Charles' hands and held them above his head with one of his own. Charles could hardly breathe. 

Erik dipped his head and nosed at the bare patch of skin underneath Charles' unbuttoned collar. With his free hand, Erik untucked Charles' shirt from his jeans, and slid his fingers across his stomach. Every touch of their skin made Charles inhale sharply, and by the time Erik had finally begun to kiss at Charles' neck, he was already panting. 

What was it about Erik that had Charles going absolutely insane?

"Erik?" He gasped, as Erik's teeth grazed his collarbone. Erik didn't reply, he just murmured something incoherent into Charles' neck. "Why are you doing this?"

Erik lifted his head and kissed Charles, long and hard. When he pulled away, just for a second, he whispered, "Just a little thank you." Charles couldn't resist the temptation to raise his head and kiss Erik. Their damp lips met with a passion that was familiar, but new and exciting, all at the same time. 

Erik's hand slid down from Charles' stomach, and cupped the bulge in his pants. Charles broke the kiss with a yelp and his hips bucked upwards of their own accord.

"Jesus,  _ Erik _ ."

His only response was to squeeze. Charles moaned, and if Erik wasn't restraining his hands he would've arched away from the table.

"Fuck, Erik,  _ touch me _ ." Charles writhed against Erik's tight hold, and even that small movement was much-needed friction. "This is torture, you bastard."

Erik released Charles' hands suddenly, and repositioned himself so he was knelt on the seat of the table, his upper body between Charles' thighs. His hands were quivering as he unbuckled Charles' belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He tried to pull his jeans down, but failed. Erik commanded, exasperated, " _ Nach oben _ ." Up. 

Charles lifted his hips away from the table obediently, and Erik slid his jeans downwards over his thighs. He could feel the cool air reaching his skin even through the material of his boxers. Charles raised his head and looked at Erik's expression. He looked positively starstruck. 

_ He's so beautiful.  _ Erik was thinking as his eyes traced the curve of Charles' hips, the shape of his erection that strained against his underwear.

Charles had never adored Erik more. 

"For god's sake, Erik-- do  _ something _ ."

Erik lowered his head until his lips were almost touching the head of Charles' cock through his boxers. He exhaled, and that featherlight brush of air made Charles groan. Erik laughed airily. "You're so sensitive."

"It's strange--" Charles spoke between pants, "I've-- I've already gotten off today."

"Not like this, you haven't." Erik said. His lips closed around the head of Charles' cock, and Charles' hands flew straight into Erik's hair.

His tongue began to massage the sensitive head through his boxers, just a gentle rhythmic sensation that was driving Charles so infuriatingly close to the edge he felt slightly faint. He pulled at Erik's hair, earning him a satisfied groan from Erik. That noise alone sent reverberations through Charles' body.

He was just about to demand that Erik remove his underwear when a phone rang.

Erik swore. He stood and marched over to the counter. Charles sat up, leant back on his hands, and watched. Erik look at his phone and scowled.

"Sorry. It's my agent. I have to take this."

Charles waved him down, "Go on."

Erik smiled sadly, and answered the phone. "What do you want? You're interrupting something... No, I can't come to your office... I'm busy!... I don't care how urgent it... American Apparel? Really?..."

Charles took that to mean that their evening was over. He swung off the table and sorted his clothing out. Erik watched him with a longing expression, and when Charles pressed two fingers to his temples he heard a rush of thoughts that were filthy and desperate.

Not too different from his usual thoughts, then.

"Alright, alright! Stop talking! I'll come down... Yes. Fine... See you soon."

Charles leant against the table and watched Erik as he walked over to him.

"Sorry,  _ liebling _ ." Erik said. He bent down slightly and gently kissed Charles, "I hate to kiss and run, but my agent needs to see me right now."

Charles stared at him when he pulled away. His innocent kisses were something to behold. "It's okay. Go do your job and stuff." Then, with a smile, "I love it when you call me darling."

Erik cupped Charles' cheek with the curve of his palm, lingered for a moment, then dropped his hand.

Charles packed his things as Erik tidied the shop. They were mostly in silence, aside from Erik's occasional tuneful whistle, but it was an overwhelmingly comfortable silence. When they parted at the doorway and headed their separate ways, Erik said farewell with a kiss.

On the way back to his apartment, Charles realised that he might just be smitten with Erik Lehnsherr.


	8. Chapter 8 - Erik

When Erik woke up the morning after his and Charles’  _ incident,  _ he thought it had all been a dream. But, when he picked up his phone while he munched on some toast, he saw that an unknown number had texted him early in the morning.

**> >** Unknown number [06:12]   
_ Good morning, handsome. x _

Erik grinned at the screen, and thought, almost gleefully,  _ He called me handsome _ . He added Charles’ number into his contacts.

**< <** Me [08:11]   
_ Is this Charles? _

**> >** Charles [08:12]   
_ No, it’s the boogie monster. x _

**> >** Charles [08:12]   
_ Of course it’s me. Why, have you been giving your number out to any other men? x _

**< < ** Me [08:14]   
_ Why do you care if I’ve been giving out my number? _

Erik walked around his apartment, collecting various items of clothing as he waited for Charles’ text. He didn’t need to be down in the shop until half past eight, so he had time to kill.

**> > ** Charles [08:19]   
_ What makes you think I care? x _

**< <** Me [08:20]   
_ Oh, the obsession you have with me. It’s so telling. Plus, the kisses. Really? _

**> >** Charles [08:22]   
_ It’s nice. x _

**< <** Me [08:23]   
_ I won’t say it again, Charles. You’re the woman in this relationship. Only women send kisses. _

**> >** Charles [08:23]   
_ We’re in a relationship now? x _

Erik didn’t answer. He needed to talk to Charles in person about such matters. He couldn’t do it over a text message. Plus, Charles would be at the shop before the morning was over, so he could talk to him then.

He made his way down to the shop and turned on all the lights. He raised all the blinds and settled himself behind the counter with a cup of tea. Last night, after he’d left the shop, he’d gone to Raven’s office and had been subjected to an hour of yelling. Apparently, he hadn’t been modelling enough, despite doing a big shoot for TIME magazine a month ago. He’d not-so-kindly told her to fuck off, and had gone home to wank his worries away.

Oh, how he wished Charles had been there with him.

The first customer of the day was a regular, a man who worked in the crafts store next door to  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ , and came in every Sunday morning and ordered exactly the same drink every week. He flirted a little, but Erik waved him away.

Every time the door opened and the welcoming bell sounded, Erik’s head snapped up, and every time he found himself frowning because Charles hadn’t walked through the door. He really wished he wasn’t so hooked on this infuriating man. He'd only been in Erik's life for a week, but he was already desperate to devote his days and nights to Charles.

Was it just lust? Erik didn’t think so. Even with Sebastian, Erik hadn’t felt this closeness and intimacy, even though they hadn’t even slept together yet. Hell, the taste of Charles’ precome still lingered in Erik’s mouth hours after their interaction had ended, and Erik had spent the night muffling his cries with a pillow as he brought himself to the brink again and again.

**> >** Charles [10:14]   
_ I'll be with you in a short while, my love. x _

A gasp of surprise slipped from between Erik's lips. 'My love'. Usually, a new partner - was that Charles was? - getting all lovey-dovey was a bad sign, but Erik just felt warm and adored.

The welcoming bell rang.

**> >** Charles [10:15]   
_ Die grüße, mein Lieblingsengel. x _

Erik looked up from his phone to see Charles walking confidently towards him. God, was he deliberately swaying his hips from side to side so temptingly?

"'Greetings, my darling angel'?" Erik translated as Charles reached the counter and leant on it with his arms crossed. "That might just be the gayest thing I've ever heard, Charles."

"Oh, you should hear me in bed." Charles' teeth tugged at his lower lip, and Erik was glad of the customers in the shop, because every fibre of his being wanted to leap across that counter, push Charles against a wall and bite that lip himself until it was red raw. He, instead, rather more politely, leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Charles' cheek. 

Then, rather less politely, he brought his mouth close to Charles' ear, and whispered, "I intend to." He suckled gently on Charles' earlobe, earning a surprised exclamation from him, and only stopped when Charles pushed against his chest with his hand.

"There are other people present, Erik."

"Fuck the other people." Erik growled, his previous desire to not make a scene lost. He kissed Charles, deep and hard, and pulled at the collar of Charles' shirt. God, he was so hot for this man. Their mouths opened at the same time and Erik took the opportunity to pull at Charles' lower lip with his teeth. 

Charles whined and Erik felt a hand in his hair, fingers curled around his locks tightly. Charles' tongue slipped into Erik's mouth and the heat between them blossomed, Charles' hardly-muted noises of appreciation steadily increasing in volume.

Suddenly there was a sharp cough.

Charles pulled away from Erik, and, his eyes downcast in spite of the blissful smile on his face, apologised and scuttled off to his table. Erik couldn't help but watch him as he slid into the booth and kicked his feet up on the opposite seats.

"So, this is what's been distracting you for the past few weeks."

Erik scowled automatically at the familiar voice, and looked up at the person who had coughed and spoken. It was Raven.

"A boy, Erik? Really?" She had her arms crossed, and was frowning at Erik, "Surely you know better than this, after Seb-"

"Don't say his name. Don't even  _ think _ it." Erik snarled. "How dare you come in here and think you can just lecture me on how I choose to spend my free time!"

"I'm your agent, and I think I can lecture you on shit like this when it actually disrupts your career!"

"My career is making coffee!"

Raven uncrossed her arms and slammed both her hands down on the counter, "Your career is  _ modelling _ , and if you don't sort your shit out and and go to that American Apparel shoot, I am going to make sure your  _ boyfriend _ never wants to come near you again!"

The door to the shop opened and the few remaining customers left hastily, all aside from Charles. Erik's head was burning with the pressure of everything he wanted to say to Raven, but the only phrase that escaped his lips was, "He's not my boyfriend!"

_ At least, I don't think he is. I wish he was _ . 

"Oh, of  _ course _ he's not. He's just a whore, isn't he? Are you paying him for sex? Modelling for clothing companies doesn't automatically mean you're hot shit, douchebag!" Raven gestured wildly over to Charles as she yelled, "Hey, pretty boy, get your ass over here!"

Erik found himself physically having to restrain his fist from flying into Raven's face. Insulting him was one thing, but taking it out on  _ Charles _ ? That was uncalled for. 

Charles stood from his seat and stared directly at Raven. She blanched as all the blood drained from her face. Erik wondered why.

"Hello, Raven."

"C-Charles?" She stammered. Erik was completely befuddled; did they know each other? "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm just whoring around with Erik, obviously." Charles growled, his tone bitter but his voice calm. "My  _ boyfriend _ ."

Charles glanced at Erik, and Erik smiled.

"I-- I didn't know..."

"Didn't know it was me? Honestly, Raven, you act so high and mighty, but I had my tongue down Erik's throat three minutes ago, right in front of you, and you had no idea who I was." Charles had taken a step towards Raven, and his hands were curled into tight fists at his sides. Erik could see the white strain of his knuckles against his skin, "Let me give you some advice, Raven. Get the hell out of this shop before Erik and I  _ both _ fire you."

Raven's nostrils flared and she glared at Charles, then Erik. She made a huffing noise, then stormed out of the shop, her heels clicking on the floor as she marched away.

Erik stared at Charles, who was glaring at the door Raven had just exited through. He walked up to Charles and, when he turned his head in surprise, he held his head between his hands and kissed him. Charles smiled into it, and when Erik opened his eyes just as he pulled away, he saw that Charles' had been open the whole time.

He couldn't exactly tell what Charles was thinking, but his eyes were filled with what could only be described as adoration.

"Thank you." Erik murmured. He moved his hands down Charles' torso and rested them on his hips. God, he loved Charles' hips. " _ Mein held. _ " He whispered before Charles looped his arms around his neck and kissed him gently.

"I don't know what that means."

"My hero." Erik translated, pressing another kiss to Charles' lips.

They stood there for a moment in the quiet of  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ , listening to the world move around them, exchanging soft kisses every few seconds. It never went further than pure innocence, and in that brief shining moment, Erik knew that he never wanted to kiss another person ever again.


	9. Chapter 9 - Charles

Charles had woken up at the crack of dawn so he could buy Erik a present. It wasn't his birthday or anything, but he wanted to get him something special.

He thought he knew Erik quite well, but when he stepped into Louis Vuitton - the staff didn't look pleased that he had chosen to shop there so early in the morning - he felt absolutely lost. He assumed that a monogrammed wallet or suitcase or something practical would be a decent gift, but the wall of colour options and displays just didn't seem very  _ Erik _ . 

So, he wandered over to the accessories section. He found an incredible thin grey cashmere scarf that, when Charles tried it around his neck, hung down to his thighs. The perfect length for Erik, then. He tried to imagine Erik wearing the scarf, but got distracted by an image of Erik  _ only _ wearing the scarf. He cleared his throat loudly and moved his feet around uncomfortably. The sales assistant stared at him. 

He paid for the scarf - it cost him a modest $729 - but as he was leaving the store, walking past the pen and notebook section, he remembered a stray thought of Erik's that he'd accidentally heard when he was reading Charles' first chapter draft.

The sales assistant raised an eyebrow when Charles returned to the till with a beautiful, entirely metal silver ballpoint pen with flawless black casing. Charles could feel the perfectly balanced weight of the pen in his hand, and he knew it was the perfect gift for Erik. When Charles had paid for the pen - another $910 - the sales assistant spoke to him.

"I'll be honest with you, sir, you don't look like the kind of guy who would come in here and buy two items on a whim." Her eyes were such a dark brown they were almost black, and Charles couldn't stop staring at them, "Most men who come in here are gay, or buying for their wife. But these things seem quite personal."

"Oh, I am gay." Charles held up the bag that contained his two gifts, "These are presents for my boyfriend."

She smiled, "How long have you been together?"

"Well, we've known one another for a week. I think we made it official last night." He smiled. The woman just stared at him, dumbstruck. “I know it’s strange to spend so much money on a man I’ve not known for long, but…”

“He’s special, huh?” The woman said. She held out her hand, “I’m Ororo, but everyone calls me Storm.”

Charles shook her hand, smiling. “Charles Xavier. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Charles Xavier… I’m sure I know that name.” Charles shrank back into himself as he waited for the inevitable gush of appreciation that would surely fall from Storm’s lips. God, he hated being so well known. “Didn’t you write a paper on missense mutations?”

No one  _ ever  _ mentioned the dissertation Charles wrote in his last year studying biochem at Oxford. As far as he was concerned, that twenty thousand word paper had been a waste of time, as he’d gained his PhD on performance merit alone. Still, he’d submitted it, and a few weeks later it had been published. He never thought that anyone was actually going to read it.

“You read my paper?”

“My step-father’s second cousin had progeria.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry.”

Storm waved her hand, “Don’t be. It was Werner’s, so she lived until she was 39. When she was diagnosed, I wanted to learn about it, and I guess I just ended up reading your paper.”

“Well, thank you. I didn’t think anyone would ever read that paper, despite spending a year writing it.” Charles smiled in what he hoped was a sympathetic way. He’d worked directly with a child who’d been diagnosed with  Hutchinson-Gilford progeria, and she had actually  died a few months after he met her. He understood the condition very, very well, both genetically and personally.

“It was excellent. In spite of the sensitive topic, you handled the genetics side of it very well.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, sharing in a personal common interest that Charles had never discussed with anyone else in person, then they remembered where they were.

“Thank you for visiting Louis Vuitton, Charles.” Storm said with a smile. “Have a nice day.”

He left the shop, feeling quite pleased with himself. Luckily, the Louis Vuitton shop was only down the street from  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ , so he walked there quite cheerfully, whistling a happy tune. By the time he arrived, it was just past nine. 

Without pausing his stride, he pushed against the door. To his surprise and embarrassment, the door didn't swing open like it usually did. He scanned the glass and noticed the CLOSED sign. Why was it closed? For the past six days,  _ Die Kaffeebohne  _ had been open, and Erik hadn't mentioned anything about being closed on Mondays.

He took a step back and looked up at the window of Erik's apartment. It was open. He considered calling up to Erik, but he pulled out his phone and texted him instead.

**< <** Me [09:08]   
_ Are you home? I'm outside. x _

He hopped from foot to foot as he waited for Erik’s reply. Thankfully, it came quickly.

**> >** Erik  ♥ [09:09]   
_ In the shower. Risking my phone just to reply. Come through alley + up fire escape. Red door. Unlocked. _

Charles grinned at Erik’s half-formed text, then headed for the alley just down from the shop. He’d expected a dark, damp place, but it was really just a gate that led into a modest shared yard, littered with plant pots and cigarette butts. He glanced upwards, saw the red door, and made his way up to it.

Did he need to knock? He wasn’t sure, so he did anyway, then walked inside.

“Erik?” He called into the quiet of the apartment. It was definitely Erik’s apartment, obvious from the scent of coffee from the shop below and from the Sophie Kinsella novels that were stacked on the coffee table. Charles smiled at that.

“In the shower!” Erik’s voice came from somewhere in the apartment, and only then did Charles hear the faint hissing spray of a shower. “Make yourself comfortable!”

Charles shrugged his coat off, removed his shoes (what? Erik said he should make himself comfortable), took a seat on the sofa and let his eyes trail around the apartment. He placed the Louis Vuitton bag on the floor next to him. There were a few movie posters on the walls - he recognised ones from The Matrix, Fight Club, Jurassic Park, but there were some he didn’t recognise at all - and he had stacks and stacks of books absolutely  _ everywhere. _ Charles thought he had too many books, but this was just putting him to shame. 

A lot of his books were pink and purple spined. Surely he didn’t like ‘chick lit’ novels  _ that  _ much?

Erik appeared in the doorway to what Charles presumed was the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his hips. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, droplets of water trailing down his toned torso. “That shower is  _ so  _ hot.”

“It’s not the only thing.” Charles blurted. He blushed and covered his mouth.

“Charles, darling, you flatter me.” Erik smiled as he walked over to him. Charles’ gaze was diverted towards the muscles that rippled under Erik’s abdomen as he moved, leading downwards to a discreet happy trail. 

Charles looked up just as Erik stopped in front of him, so he wasn’t staring at… well. Erik suddenly bent down and kissed him. Charles instinctively held Erik’s face between his two hands as their lips met. When had they slipped into this entirely natural kissing routine?

When Erik pulled away, Charles noticed that he had stubble. Usually, Erik was clean-shaven, and it suited him, but today he hadn’t shaved. It was surprisingly sexy.

“Stubble?”

Erik smiled and rubbed at it with his thumb, “Do you like it?”

“I mean, of course I do. It’s very--” Charles cleared his throat, “It suits you. Just… why?”

“Raven likes me to have stubble when I model. She says it compliments my modelling style.” He sat on the coffee table in front of Charles and leant back on one hand, “I wish she’d given me a bit more notice. One-day-old stubble just isn’t sexy.”

Charles disagreed. Strongly. “When are you modelling?”

Erik glanced over at the clock on the far wall, “In an hour.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to ask a favour.”

Charles leant back on the sofa, “A sexual favour?”

Erik laughed, “You wish. No, let’s save that for  _ after  _ the shoot. You probably know what she says, no--”

“No wanking before meetings.” Charles finished for him. “Or photoshoots, I suppose. But is it  _ really  _ wanking if I do it for you?” He lifted his leg and slid his socked foot up the inside of Erik's thigh, until he was nudging his way under the towel, seeking a warmer, more sensitive place.

"Charles, please stop." Erik half-laughed, half-groaned, but his legs still spread further apart to make room for Charles' foot.

"You can't pretend you don't want this." Charles said quietly.

"I'm not-- ah, fuck, Charles!" Charles' foot had found its target, and as he ran a gentle line up Erik's hardening cock, Erik's eyes fluttered closed, "Please don't-- Raven is gonna, ah--"

Charles grinned triumphantly as Erik's hips jumped forward into his featherlight touch. He withdrew for a second and slid his foot along the inside of Erik's thigh again. Erik moved in an instant and then he was sat on Charles' lap, his knees straddling Charles' thighs.

"What happened?" Charles asked, confused. Everything had moved so quick.

"You said that the first time we met, Charles." Erik smirked and pushed his hips down into Charles'. He gasped and bit his lip to hold back a louder, more embarrassing sound. "My poor  _ liebling _ , as confused as ever."

"I'm not confused--" Charles tried to defend himself, but Erik rotated his hips in a maddeningly slow fashion that sent a shiver down Charles' spine and he found himself not caring anymore. Erik's hands moved to his waist and, barely faltering his circular motions, he unwrapped the towel from his waist and threw it aside.

Charles looked down.

_ Oh, fuck me. _

Charles had had countless fantasies about Erik's cock. He'd seen every curve of it through boxers in many shoot photographs, in startling high definition, but nothing,  _ nothing _ , compared to the real thing. 

Charles found his eyes tracing his erect length almost greedily. He had a complimentary smattering of dark hair around the base of him. He was cut, and his head was pink and smooth and his slit was leaking glossy pre-come and Charles wanted nothing more than to wrap his lips around him and--

His thoughts were disrupted when Erik kissed him again, then rose to his feet. Charles actually leant forward and he was mere inches from Erik's erection when Erik's hand pressed flat against his forehead and held him back. Charles whined.

"Now, Charles." Erik said. His voice sounded stable, but Charles could tell from the waves of arousal emanating from his thoughts that he wanted it too, "We don't want Raven to yell at the both of us, do we?"

Charles just groaned in response, "Fuck her. I want you right now, on this sofa." He leant forward, pushing against Erik's hand until he was almost touching Erik's cock with his lips, "I want to take you in my mouth and suck until you come down my throat. I want you, Erik. Just you."

Erik's cock twitched at that and Erik covered himself with his free hand. Charles looked up, stared straight into his eyes, and realised that Erik was adamant. They weren't going to be having any fun today. So, he leant back on the sofa and crossed his arms, "Go get dressed."

"Why must you torment me so?" Erik lamented as he left the room to find some clothes.

"Because you're hot and you won't let me suck you off!" Charles yelled after him as he slipped his shoes back on.

Erik came back into the room, still naked, holding an assortment of plain clothing under his arm. He laughed. "I'll definitely let you suck me off. Multiple times." He walked straight up to Charles and kissed him on the forehead, "Just not right now."

Charles frowned and tied his shoelaces, purposefully avoiding watching Erik as he dressed. He couldn't really drag tying his laces out any longer, so he finished the knot and grabbed the bag as he rose to his feet. 

Erik was just pulling a tight white shirt over his head. He turned to look at Charles, smiling. Charles raised the bag. "I have a present for you. Uh, two presents."

"From Louis Vuitton?" Erik laughed, "You're joking, aren't you?"

"Not at all."

Charles handed over the bag, and Erik stared into it. "You actually bought me a present from Louis Vuitton? Two presents?"

Charles nodded.

"I feel like you're paying me for sex, Charles."

"Even if I was, we haven't had sex yet, so what a bloody waste of money."

Charles caught the tail end of a vehement explosion of thought in Erik's mind. One word.  _ Yet _ . 

Erik pulled the scarf out of the bag and stared at it with awe written across his features. He placed the bag gingerly on the floor and hung the scarf around his neck. 

Charles chuckled, "You're doing it all wrong, you dope." Charles stepped forward and removed the scarf. He looped it around Erik's neck and tied it properly. It looked a little silly by itself, "You definitely need to wear this with a coat."

"I can't accept this, Charles. This must've cost you-"

Charles waved him down, "Cost doesn't matter. It's a gift. Now, open the other one, because that's much better."

"Better than a Louis Vuitton scarf?"

"Much better."

Erik bent down and pulled the silver box from the bag. He opened it, and his jaw dropped. "A pen?"

"A Louis Vuitton pen. The best money can buy." Charles smiled as Erik rolled the pen between his fingers as if it were a precious object, and seemed to be examining every detail closely, "I figured maybe you could write your own book. Then we'd be two novelists in love, or something."

"In love?" Erik said sharply.

Charles hadn't meant to say that. He brushed it off, hoping Erik wouldn't linger on it for too long. He didn't want to ruin their relationship before it had hardly begun.

"Oh, you know what I mean." Erik nodded absently, still staring at the pen. Charles glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly half past nine. "Erik, you're going to miss the shoot unless you go now."

Erik suddenly jumped as if he'd remembered something. He slid the pen back into its case, untied the scarf, then placed both of them back into the bag. When he had righted himself, he chewed at his lower lip thoughtfully, "I still want to ask you a favour."

"Okay."

"Not a sexual one."

"Okay."

Erik's cheeks flushed pink and he shuffled his feet, "Can you come to the shoot with me? Only, I've not been on the best terms with Raven, and she's probably going to attack me the second I arrive, and going from yesterday's incident you are the only one who can stand up to her." Erik blurted in one long rush.

Charles grinned, "I was going to come with you anyway."

"Oh."

"Of course I'll go with you, Erik. Defence from Raven's inevitable attack comes free of charge." Charles smacked Erik on the shoulder, "And I'm not paying you for sex. Don't say that again."

Erik grinned and gestured towards the door. Charles picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, his finger through the label loop, then headed for the door. 

Charles slipped his hand into Erik's as they stepped out of the alley, and Erik smiled at him with genuine warmth that made Charles' knees weak.

They walked straight to the shoot studio, hardly slowing their stride, even as the odd person recognised them and called out to them. Charles knew that there would be candids of the two of them holding hands on the internet within an hour. 

Truly, the scandal of the century: Charles Xavier, the PhD with an interest in children's charities, and Erik Lehnsherr, the barista turned model who had captured Charles' heart, and showed no sign of letting it go.


	10. Chapter 10 - Erik

Erik wasn't usually distracted before a shoot. He was generally quite focused when it came to posing, but the morning had thrown him for a loop. 

All because of Charles. 

Charles coming to his apartment. Charles using his  _ foot _ to feel Erik up. Charles giving Erik two incredibly expensive and thoughtful gifts. Charles calling the two of them 'two novelists in love'. Charles holding his hand for the entirety of the six block walk to the shoot studio. 

Honestly, Erik was surprised he was still standing. Charles Xavier was really throwing him off balance. 

"Erik? You in there?"

He blinked a few times and shook his head to clear his foggy thoughts. His makeup artist, Anne (although everyone called her Rogue), was waving her hand in front of his face. He realised that he'd almost drifted off.

"Sorry, Rogue. I got a bit distracted."

She smiled knowingly, "You thinking about that man who came to the studio with you?" Erik nodded without thinking, then cursed inwardly. He was about to defend himself when Rogue held up her phone. There was a picture displayed. It was a candid shot of him and Charles walking along what looked like 52nd St, their joined hands swinging between them. Charles was using his hand to demonstrate something - in spite of the jacket which was swinging off his index finger - and Erik was laughing. He smiled at the memory.

"He's called Charles." Erik sighed.

"I know. He's more famous than you are." Rogue said as she toyed with Erik's hair, "I don't mean that in a bad way. Except, well, he is  _ actually _ more famous than you."

Erik just stared at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. He'd never seem himself look this cheery. Usually his eyes were shadowed, his lips tightly drawn, but now - even in a relaxed and neutral state - he looked positively euphoric.

"The online headlines actually called you two 'Star crossed lovers'. Honestly, the first ever photographs of you two together and the media blows it up out of proportion." Rogue laughed to herself as she pulled Erik's hair into a neat unmovable style.

_ Star crossed lovers. _

"It's not far from the truth, actually."

"Ohh, is he the  _ real deal _ ?" 

Erik considered this for a moment. Every second spent with Charles was the new best second of his life, and whenever they were apart, Erik missed him terribly. Maybe he  _ was _ the  _ real deal _ . 

"We haven't said we love one another yet."

"Do you love him?" Rogue asked as she ran a makeup brush across his stubble. "You might wanna tell him, if you do."

"We've only known each other for a week."

Rogue actually dropped the brush. "A week?"

"Six days."

"And you think you're in love with him?"

Erik blushed, "I know it sounds ridiculous, but he's special. I've never been this comfortable around a person. And I suppose I've actually known  _ him _ for four months, and I've been staring at his face plastered on the side of the Nomura building. But he's only known  _ me _ for six days. I don't want to scare him off."

"Have you asked him how he feels?"

He picked at a loose thread in his jeans and shook his head.

"You should."

Erik sighed, and for one moment he dropped his guard and was completely honest, "I don't want to lose him."

Rogue smiled at him. "As much as I like this whole love-at-first-sight thing you've got going on, how much do you know about him? I think love is knowing everything about a person, and if you've only known him for six days..." She shrugged.

The realisation was quite unpleasant. Erik didn't really know much about him. "I know  _ some _ stuff about him. Important stuff." He grimaced, remembering their first sentimental evening together. 

"What about the trivial stuff?"

Erik stared at her as she dabbed some unknown powder onto his forehead, "Trivial stuff?"

"What's his favourite colour? What size shoes does he wear? How does he like his eggs? Favourite movie? Favourite book? Secret celebrity crush?"

He didn't know the answer to any of those questions. "Do I really need to know all of those things?"

"Half the fun of falling in love is getting to know the other person, Erik." She withdrew her hands and brushed the powder off them, "You're ready to go."

Erik stood up, thanked her, and went through to the shoot room. They were still setting up, and Raven was barking commands at the cameramen. A few other models were milling around, and Erik recognised one from an earlier shoot, a young man named Michael who was an specialist in nude shoots. 

The photographer, Destiny ( _ Irene _ , when she wasn’t on set), was flirting with Raven. If Erik didn't know Raven as well as he did, he would say that she was ignoring Destiny's advances, but he knew that she was absolutely head over heels for her, and the blush that spread across her cheeks whenever Destiny touched her arm really gave it away.

"Erik!" Charles' voice called out to Erik from the faint hum of electronic equipment and the babble of voices in the shoot room. He span on the spot and was engulfed in a hug from Charles. Rogue winked at him from across the room and Erik smiled into Charles' hair.

"What's with the hug,  _ liebling _ ?" 

Charles looked up at him, eyes wide and curious like a child's. "I haven't hugged you yet. I just realised while you were getting your makeup done." Charles raised his hand and ran his thumb across Erik's cheekbone, earning a harsh exclamation from Rogue. 

_ How much do I know about him? _

"How do you like your eggs?" He blurted.

Charles laughed, "Scrambled, with a lot of pepper. How do you like your eggs?"

"Boiled. As runny as possible." Erik smiled, "Hey, um, do you want to go out for a drink after the shoot?" He asked as he untangled himself from Charles' arms. He felt strangely lost without his warmth wrapped around him.

"Are you asking me on a date, Mr Lehnsherr?"

Erik blushed, "You  _ are  _ my boyfriend, and as far as I'm aware, people ask their boyfriends out on dates."

"Alright, people, we're ready to start!" Destiny's voice boomed through the studio, and she clapped her hands together, "James, you're up first. Then I think we'll have Michael, then Benedict. Erik, after Ben. Tom can go last."

The four other models scurried off to get changed. Erik kissed Charles on the cheek as he walked past him, and he headed to the changing room. The stylist from American Apparel - Darwin, apparently - pointed Erik towards changing room 3. Inside, hung on the wall, was the stupidest outfit Erik had ever seen.

He reluctantly pulled on the cotton blue pants which stopped halfway down his ankles. The white and navy striped top was understandable, but when he slipped the beige cardigan over his shoulders and looped the grey infinity scarf around his neck, he had never felt more ridiculous. The last straw was the  _ shoes _ . They vaguely resembled elf shoes, and they were uncomfortably tight around Erik's feet. 

After dressing, he stepped out of the changing room and stared at Darwin.

Darwin jumped excitedly when he saw him and clapped his hands, "You look amazing, Erik! Just tuck the top in and you're sorted."

Erik did. "I don't feel amazing."

Darwin frowned, "Well, you look it. Destiny is ready for you."

Erik sighed and headed back to the shoot room. He really didn't want Charles to see him when he looked so stupid, but he figured that Charles would see the pictures one way or another. He walked up to the white backdropped platform and waited for Destiny's instructions.

Over her shoulder, he could see Charles leant against the far wall. He was clearly holding back laughter, and Erik narrowed his eyes at him. Charles just raised his eyebrow and mouthed one word:  _ beautiful _ . Erik blushed. 

"Alright, enough eye sex, boys. We're here to work." Destiny said suddenly. "Right, Erik, we're going for a hipster look here, so, um, imagine you're a moody twenty-something."

"He  _ is _ a moody twenty-something!" Rogue called from the back of the room. She had materialised next to Charles. 

"I'm thirty six, Rogue." Erik replied, for once incredibly glad of his age. 

"You're definitely moody, though!" Charles shouted. He and Rogue exchanged pleased looks, then bumped their fists together.

Erik frowned, then flipped his middle fingers up at them both. The camera clicked and Destiny made a satisfied noise, "That's perfect, Erik. Very hipster." He looked at her, surprised.

"I was just telling my  _ darling _ boyfriend to fuck off." He said sweetly.

"Keep doing that. It looks great."

Erik was used to looking generally quite silly and dramatic in photo shoots, but he'd never been asked to do angry poses before. It was a nice change. With every pose that he struck, Charles laughed, and he found it very difficult to maintain a scowl when there were joyous peals of laughter being directed at him.

"One more, Erik. Make it a little bit sexy."

_ Sexy _ , he could do. He pushed a thumb under the waistband of the ridiculous cotton pants, forced it down a little so his boxers - god, he was glad he'd worn good underwear today - were showing. He put his weight into his left leg, pushed his hips backwards, and bit his lower lip. He narrowed his eyes and stared as lustily as he could at the camera. 

The camera clicked madly.

Charles choked at the back of the room. 

"Aaand, we're done. Great shoot Erik. Darwin, is Tom ready for--" Destiny was talking, but Erik wasn't listening. He was watching Charles. And Charles was watching Erik. 

Erik walked straight over to him, eyes locked on his. Rogue made a strange noise and walked away from them.

"Great shoot, Erik." Charles said as Erik stopped in front of him. Erik had never felt taller.

Erik ducked his head slightly and parted his lips. Charles closed his eyes and tilted his head up.

Then Erik grabbed Charles' waist and wrestled him to the floor. Charles was evidently not expecting it, as he made a peculiar squeaking noise as they fell. Erik slid his hands under Charles' shirt after hastily untucking it, and he danced his fingers up and down Charles' ribs.

Charles shrieked and writhed as Erik tickled his soft flesh. Erik lay almost flat on Charles and moved his hands up until he was tickling under his arms. Charles howled and he tried to clamp Erik's hands with his arms, but it only helped Erik tickle him more.

"Erik! Erik! Please!" Charles was panting between screeches of laughter, "Stop!"

Erik returned to running his fingers across Charles' ribs and sides, and the rewarding scream even made Raven and Destiny, who Erik could see in his peripheral vision, laugh. He laughed onto Charles' bare stomach as his entire abdomen rose and fell with inconsistent laughs and breaths. 

"Erik-- for the love of--  _ Erik _ !" Charles gasped, his hands grabbing at Erik's shoulders fruitlessly. His hips were jerking from side to side as he writhed against Erik's onslaught. 

Erik stopped his slow torture, shifted upwards until he was level with Charles, and whispered in his ear, "You're so  _ sensitive _ ." 

Charles gasped and stopped struggling. "You cheeky--"

Erik silenced him with a kiss. He pulled away, sat up on Charles' hips and smiled. "Shall we go for that drink now?"

Charles propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at Erik. "Kiss me properly first." Erik could only obey, and he leant forward and met Charles in a kiss that jumped straight from chaste and innocent to breathy and desperate without a moment of hesitation. Erik gripped Charles' head between his hands and forced him upwards until Charles looped his arms around Erik's torso. 

Their bodies were suddenly closer than they had ever been before, and Erik let his arms rest lazily around Charles' neck as their mouths and tongues moved in tandem. Erik casually pushed his hips into Charles', earning him a surprised chuckle.

"Alright, boys, no sex in this studio." Raven's voice suddenly broke the tension between them. Erik pulled away from Charles and stared up at her.

"We were just leaving, anyway." Erik replied as he stood. He held out his hand and hoisted Charles to his feet. Charles stared glumly at his untucked shirt, but Erik stepped forward and tucked it in for him, walking around him in a circle. Charles thanked him with a kiss.

"That's the gayest thing I've ever seen." Raven said. She was smiling at the two of them, in spite of her slightly rude comment. 

"You should see us in bed." Erik and Charles said at the same time _. I might not know his favourite colour or his shoe size, but I think I know him well enough _ , he thought as Charles smiled at him.

"I don't wanna know." Raven said, "Now both of you, piss off. The studio is closing soon."

They did. They walked straight to the nearest bar and drank good alcohol and ate questionable peanuts until they both got too tired and stumbled back to Erik's apartment.

Erik was far tipsier than he was letting on, and Charles sleeping in his bed just seemed like a really good idea. Stripping down to their underwear and sleeping together in a single bed also seemed like a really good idea.  _ Charles _ seemed like a really good idea. 

"M'favourite colour's blue." Charles mumbled into their shared pillow. Erik drifted off to sleep before he could wonder why Charles had said that.


	11. Chapter 11 - Charles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long one, sorry! Smut, tho ;)

“Charles?”

Charles ignored the voice that was calling his name. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, and he knew that he had an almighty hangover coming on. Even small amounts of alcohol absolutely  _ ruined _ his head the next morning.

“Are you awake?”

“Fuck off.” He muttered, pushing his face into the pillow beneath his head.

“Chaaaarles?” The voice was still talking to him. Why wouldn’t it just leave him alone?

“‘M’asleep.”

A hand suddenly pressed into his lower back, and he felt himself being pushed against another person. He turned his head into the light and opened his eyes, but he was met with a gentle kiss.

_ Erik _ .

Charles felt his entire body relax as Erik kissed him, and he wasn’t even a little bit bothered about the morning breath that only comes about after a night of drinking. Erik’s hand was soft on his back, pushing them incrementally closer.

He sighed happily, and Erik withdrew. “Mornin’, Charles.”

“Good morning, Erik.”

“Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time.”

Erik smiled at him. “Me too.”

They lay there, side by side, staring at each other fondly for a few moments. Then Erik rolled over and picked up his phone from the bedside table. He swore.

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked.

“I have to go to a shoot in two hours.” Erik rolled back over and held up his phone to show Charles the text which was displayed.

**> >** Hag Bitch [07:55]   
_ ERIK! I hope you’re not hungover, because you have a Calvin Klein shoot at 11 AM in the usual studio. Say hi to Charles for me. _

“But you just did one yesterday.” Charles whined, “Also, ‘Hag Bitch’?”

Erik laughed, “It’s honest naming. What’s she called in your phone?” Charles reached for his own phone. He brought up his contacts - there were only four - and held it up for Erik to see. “See, she has a little toxic symbol next to her name! You’re just as horrible as I am.”

“I don’t mean it though.”

“Don’t you mean the heart next to my name either?”

Charles blushed. “I mean that one.” He said quietly. Erik grinned and then looked back down at the phone. 

“Who’s Logan?” Erik said casually. Charles suddenly felt like he was under a very bright, very hot spotlight, and he locked his phone.

“Nobody.”

Erik suddenly moved until he was sat on top of Charles, pinning his arms down by his sides.  They’d been in this position quite a lot over the past few days. “Go on, _ liebling _ . You know about my ex-boyfriend. I think you should tell me about this Logan fellow.” He sounded quite interrogative, but he was smiling.

“He’s just an ex-boyfriend. He’s not important.” Charles refused to meet Erik’s gaze. He really didn’t want to talk about Logan. That had been a long, messy relationship, and he didn’t want to bring it all back up again.

“Okay. If you say he’s not important, I believe you.” Erik said quietly. He rolled off Charles and lay flat on the bed next to him, “Do you want eggs for breakfast?”

“Sure.”

They both got out of the bed. Charles noticed he wasn’t wearing any clothes aside from his boxers, and he suddenly felt very self-conscious. He was on the other side of a single bed - he wondered vaguely how they had both managed to fit into it - from a model, and he had never been more aware of his chubby hips and stomach.

“What’s wrong Charles?”

Charles shook his head, “Nothing.”

“You look embarrassed.”

“Nah.”

Erik walked around to Charles’ side of the bed and Charles instinctively wrapped his arms around his torso. Erik sighed, “Please don’t be so self-conscious, Charles. I love your chubby belly. It’s very  _ schnuckelig _ .”

Charles knew that word. ‘Cute’. He blushed and unwrapped his arms.

“How did you know I felt self-conscious?”

“I can just tell.” Erik slipped his hands around Charles’ waist and ran them up and down his torso. He giggled at the ticklish sensation. “You’re perfect, Charles. I can’t believe you think you’re not.”

Charles leant up and kissed him. When he pulled back, he smiled. “Can I have some eggs now?”

Erik grinned, “Of course. Get dressed, I’ll make the eggs.”

Charles searched the room for his clothes after Erik had headed towards the kitchen, only in his boxers. They were in a vague line from the door of Erik’s room to the bed, and Erik's clothes were mixed amongst his. Charles picked up a thin white shirt that he knew was Erik's, and inhaled the scent that had drawn him to Erik just a week earlier. 

One week. It felt like a  _ year  _ had passed since they first met, not seven days.

He tugged on his jeans and buckled his belt. He picked up his shirt, sniffed it, and decided that it would probably be better not to wear that shirt for another day.

"Erik?" He called.

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if I borrow a shirt?"

"You've borrowed one before, haven't you?" Erik yelled back. Faint swing music started playing.

Charles grinned and headed over to Erik's closet. There was a huge array of colourful t-shirts and shirts and vest tops in there. He picked the least offensively coloured, smallest t-shirt he could find, and pulled it over his head.

It was quite loose on him, but he imagined that it would fit tightly on Erik. 

He closed the closet and walked out of the bedroom. Next to Erik's bedroom was the bathroom, and if he walked forward he would be in the kitchen. Charles went forward and leant against the wall, observing. 

Erik was stood in the kitchen, singing along to a song on the radio as he stirred something in a frying pan. A pan of water was on the back ring of the hob, bubbling.

Charles recognised the jazz song that Erik was singing and swaying his hips along to. He was changing the pitch of his voice to match the two singers, a man and a woman. 

"How do you like your eggs in the morning?" Erik sang in a high voice, then, as he pointed a spatula at an invisible person to his right, he pitched his voice down, "I like mine with a kiss."

Erik shook his hips in the short music interim, then, "Boiled or fried?" He dropped his pitch again, "I'm satisfied, as long as I get my kiss!"

Charles stepped away from the wall, and sang along with Erik, "How do you like your toast in the morning?" Erik faltered as Charles cut in with his own singing, and he turned his head, surprised. Charles grinned at him.

Then Erik sang, hardly missing a beat, "I like mine with a hug."

"Dark or light?"

"The world's alright, as long as I get my hug." Erik smiled and pointed Charles towards the barstools that were behind the breakfast bar next to him. Charles walked over and sat on one as Erik sang his next line, "I've got to have my love in the morning."

"Or the rest of my day is positively mayhem!"

Erik clicked his tongue and cocked both of his forefingers at Charles, "I'm a regular monster!"

They continued to sing back and forth as Erik cooked the eggs and transferred them to plates. He put a liberal amount of pepper on Charles' scrambled eggs, and Charles was thrilled that he'd remembered. The song was drawing to a close, but Charles never wanted it to end.

"Up or down?"

"I'll never frown."

They sang together, in perfect out of tune harmony, "Eggs can be almost bliss!"

Erik slid the plates across the breakfast bar to Charles, then walked round and stood behind him, his hands around Charles' waist as they sang the final line, "Just as long as I get my kiss!"

Erik punctuated the 'kiss' by gently pressing his lips to Charles' neck. The song finished with an explosion of noise from all the various instruments, and then the radio presenter's voice returned to the air.

"You're an awful singer, Charles." Erik murmured into Charles' neck. "And you're  _ still _ the woman."

"Oh, and I was going to compliment you and everything!"

"It was lovely anyway." Erik continued.

Charles picked up his fork as Erik settled into the barstool next to him. He chewed thoughtfully on a mouthful of scrambled egg, "This is actually really good." He mumbled around the egg.

"I  _ am _ the best egg maker in the land." Erik said as he cracked open his hard boiled egg with a knife. Runny yolk poured out, and it looked like the white of the egg was still a bit runny too.

"As runny as possible, huh?"

"Yeah. Glad you remembered. How's the hangover?" 

"Awful when you oh so rudely awakened me, but better now." Charles said around another mouthful of egg.

"Ah, good, good." Erik said before they slipped into a comfortable silence. Charles had eaten half of his eggs when he realised that he was missing a vital part of breakfast.

He slid off his barstool and walked over to the kettle in the corner of the kitchen. After filling it in the sink, he began hunting for tea bags in the cupboards. Erik was watching him with a smile on his face. "Need a little help?"

"Nope."

"You're so stubborn."

"Yep."

Every cupboard was neatly organised, but he couldn't find a single tea bag anywhere. He stood up and faced Erik with his hands on his hips, "Alright, where's the tea?"

Erik grinned, "Downstairs."

"Why?" Charles groaned.

"I live above a coffee shop. You really think I'd keep my tea and coffee in my apartment,  _ liebling _ ?" Charles shrugged in response and walked over to the stairs that led down to the coffee shop. Erik didn't even try to stop him, just called after him telling him where the tea bags were kept.

When Charles returned with two Earl Grey tea bags, Erik had taken out two mugs and placed them next to the kettle, which had boiled. "How did you know I'd make you tea too?" Charles asked.

"You're predictable. And you know I like Earl Grey."

"How did you know I was going to get Earl Grey?"

"I can read minds."

Charles choked. What had Erik just said? "Y-you can read minds?"

"Yes." Erik said, completely matter-of-fact. Charles stared at him, bewildered, for a few moments, then Erik's facade broke down and he grinned. "Of course I can't read minds, Charles. That's ridiculous."

Charles frowned, "Telepathy isn't ridiculous. Now, metal telekinesis.  _ That _ would be ridiculous." Charles dropped the tea bags into the mugs of hot water, and stirred them gently with the teaspoon Erik had gotten out. He smiled, glad he was facing away from Erik. 

"Metal telekinesis." Erik swallowed loudly, "What does that involve?"

"It's just the ability to move metal with your mind." Charles said nonchalantly as he removed the tea bags from the mugs, threw them into the bin, and handed Erik a mug of tea. He sat back on his barstool and sipped at his own drink, "Imagine if you could do that. All those spoons you dropped on the floor on Tuesday could be picked up in an  _ instant _ ."

Erik just stared at Charles with a peculiar expression on his face, "Imagine."

"It would be fascinating, being able to control metal. We're in a city built almost entirely out of steel and iron. It would be so easy to tear down buildings or lift cars into the air." Charles swallowed a mouthful of tea, "In theory, you could fly."

"That's just ridiculous."

"No, no it's not. The earth beneath us - even if it's been covered with concrete and tarmac - is filled with metal deposits and minerals. You'd just have to push away from them, and then--" Charles raised his hand into the air, his eyes locked on Erik's, "You would be flying."

Erik looked slightly like he was spacing out, and when Charles pressed two fingers to his temple he heard a flurry of excited thoughts coming from Erik's mind. 

"Are you alright, darling?" He asked innocently as he sipped at his tea.

Erik nodded. They ate the rest of their breakfast as if nothing had happened, half heartedly discussing the daily news. It occurred to Charles that this was the most domestic thing he’d ever done with a partner. Even with Logan-- no. He didn’t want to think about Logan, not now, when he was so happy.

When they had finished, Erik scooped up his and Charles' plates and took them over to the sink.

"I'll clean up if you like. I'm sure you need to get ready for the shoot." Charles offered. Erik glanced at the clock on the wall and nodded. He walked over to his bedroom, and Charles shamelessly stared at his arse as he strode across the front room. God, he had a  _ magnificent _ arse. No wonder he was a model. 

Charles washed up the pots, whistling along to a song on the radio as he did so. It was a song he couldn't identify, but it was a pleasant tune, so he happily rocked his hips to the rhythm of it.

"Nice  _ hintern _ ." Erik's voice sounded from across the room.

" _ Hintern _ ?"

"Ass."

"You're one to talk." Charles smirked as he emptied the sink and rinsed his hands. "Your arse is an absolute marvel."

"Well, I know that."

Charles laughed and watched as the now-dressed Erik gathered a few items into a satchel - a pink book, a notepad, the pen Charles had bought him. "So you like the pen?"

"How could I not? It's beautiful." Erik slung the satchel over his shoulder, "Come on. We have to go."

Charles was confused for a moment, but then he remembered the shoot. "Oh! Let me just put my shoes on." He scrambled across the front room and slipped his shoes onto his feet, tying the laces haphazardly. Once he was fit for public viewing, he walked up to Erik and rocked back and forth on his heels. "Shall we go?"

Erik was staring at him.

"What?"

"You look good in that shirt."

Charles looked down at his shirt. It was the white one of Erik's, very plain and boring. "It's so plain though."

"Plain suits you, then." Erik's eyes were tracing Charles' figure, and he blushed.

"Stop staring at me." Charles smacked Erik's arm, "It's weird."

"You're nice to stare at."

"Oh, bugger off." Charles smacked him again.

Erik laughed at that and pulled Charles closer to him. He kissed him gently and then released him from his arms. Charles wanted to be held by Erik forever.

They headed out through the back door of the apartment and onto the street. The shoot was in the same studio as yesterday's shoot, so Charles found himself leading the way. When they arrived, Erik was immediately dragged into the makeup room by a frazzled looking Rogue, and Charles was left milling around with Destiny and Raven.

"Hey, Charles." Raven said as Charles approached her.

"Raven."

"Are you and Erik in an actual relationship now?" She asked as she typed on her phone. Charles was a little surprised at the unprovoked question, but he smiled anyway.

"I suppose so. He made me eggs this morning."

Raven actually looked up from her phone, "So you  _ did _ sleep at his apartment. I wasn't sure you were actually there." She grinned, "Congrats on the sex."

Charles blushed, "We didn't have sex."

"We did, though!" Destiny suddenly chirped as she skipped over to Raven and slipped an arm around her waist, "Raven here finally saw sense and decided to fall in love with me. She spent the night at my place. Man, this girl can fuck."

Raven was beetroot red by the time Destiny had finished talking, and Charles supposed he was too, "Yeah, well, you've been flirting for long enough." She stuttered, "It's only natural I'd fall for you."

Destiny beamed and kissed Raven on the side of the head, "Love you too, babe." She skipped away again and returned to helping the crew set up the lighting.

"Wow." Charles said as he stared after Destiny, "One night and you two are in love."

Raven snorted, "One week and  _ you  _ two are in love. At least Destiny and I have known each other for more than seven days."

Charles frowned, "It's not like that, we're--"

"I know it's not. I don't doubt that you love him. Hell, I've known Erik for three years. I've never seen him this happy. Have you  _ seen _ the way he looks at you?" Raven had lowered her phone completely and was very carefully watching Charles, "He's completely in love with you. You're a very lucky man."

Charles smiled, "You don't need to tell me that."

"And you managed to snare the hottest guy in Manhattan in just a week. You deserve a medal for that."

Charles was about to reply when the door to the makeup room opened and Erik stepped through it. He was wearing a loosely tied white robe, and his hair was carefully styled to make it look just like bed hair.  _ Or sex hair, _ Charles' mind whispered. 

He waved at him, and Erik waved back, smiling.

Destiny's voice suddenly boomed through the studio and Raven jumped. "Time to start." She muttered as she walked away from Charles.

"Erik, you're up first. You're our headliner for this shoot, and you're going to be backed up by Michael, Sean, and Scott." Charles' eyes followed Destiny's directing finger, and he recognised Michael from yesterday's shoot. Scott looked a little familiar too, but he couldn't place him. 

He didn't have too long to think on it, because Erik had stepped on to the white platform in front of the camera, and was beginning to untie his robe. Charles had seen Erik in his underwear not an hour earlier, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing Erik in tight white Calvin Klein boxer shorts.

Erik hadn't told him that this shoot was an underwear shoot.

"Oh, Erik. You're a sight for sore eyes." Destiny sighed as she readied the camera. Raven coughed loudly, "Sorry, babe."

Erik raised his eyebrow at that, but didn't comment. Charles caught his gaze and made a scissoring gesture with his hands. He seemed to get the message, because he snorted and grinned.

"Okay, Erik, you know the drill. Sexy as you like." Erik nodded at Destiny's instructions. 

Charles was then subjected to the most frustrating ten minutes of his life. Erik's initial poses were gentle - Charles didn't really feel like laughing at him today - and it looked like he was trying to flirt with the camera. Erik seemed to use his hips more than any other part of his body, and Charles had to admit that Erik really knew how to put the clothing product at the forefront of the image.

But as the minutes passed, Erik gradually slipped from flirtatious to suggestive, and his eyes trained on Charles every time he struck a pose. There was a white block behind him, and he used it to his advantages, leaning and sitting on it alternately. He was in his element, half naked on a well lit stage in front of a crowd of people, and every line and curve of his perfect body was shimmering in the glow of the lights. 

Charles probably looked a little gormless as he stared at Erik's twisting and bending form.

"Come on, Erik." Destiny complained, "I know you can do sexier than this." 

Charles nearly choked on air. He didn't think it could get sexier than that. 

"Charles?" He started at the sound of his name, and he realised that Destiny was gesturing at him. He walked over to her, and she stopped him just to the left of the camera. She turned back to Erik, "I want you to look at Charles while you do the next few."

Charles blushed, suddenly very aware that there were a group of strangers watching him. Whatever Erik did in the next pictures, every person in that room would know that Charles was the reason he did it.

"Are you sure?" He whispered to Destiny.

She winked at him, "Positive."

Charles slowly moved his eyes until he met Erik's gaze. His eyes were wide and excitement was sparkling in them.

"Off you go." Destiny commanded. Charles instinctively raised two fingers to his temple as Erik began to move into various positions. Erik's thoughts were a flurry of sexual fantasies and dirty thoughts and  _ German _ , and Charles had to drop his hand. It was too intense, even for him.

First, Erik stood with his back to the camera and spread his legs until they were in line with his shoulder. He tensed his arse as he stared straight over his shoulder into Charles' eyes. The muscles in his back moved as his torso twisted around to accommodate, and Charles swallowed. Destiny snickered as she clicked the camera.

Next, Erik raised his arm and stretched it over his shoulder, making the tendons in his arm tighten. He lifted his head up to the direction of his arm, but he kept his eyes trained on Charles. With his other arm, he slipped his thumb under the waistband of his boxers and tugged it down slightly, revealing more of his happy trail. 

Charles felt slightly like the room was spinning. He was uncomfortably aware that he was hard in his pants, and judging by the increasingly defined outline of his cock in the boxers, Erik was getting turned on too.

Erik then, in one fluid motion, threw his other arm behind his head, leant forward slightly, pulled himself up until his abs were very, very pronounced. He pushed his hips back slightly until his body aligned, and he tucked his head in the gap between his biceps. 

His eyes still refused to leave Charles' face, and Charles wanted nothing more than to leap onto the platform and do a whole manner of nasty things to Erik, but the violent clicking of the camera reminded him where he was. He was almost panting, his breaths short and strained. 

"Last one, Erik." Destiny said. She sounded faint and distant, and Charles was aware of his pulse thudding in his ears. 

Erik grinned. He returned to a relaxed position, then pushed his shoulders back so he was stood straight. He drew his lower lip into his mouth and tilted his head back slightly. Then, with his right arm, he reached around and grabbed his bulge. 

Erik let out a quiet groan just as Charles span on the spot and ran straight out of the room. He didn't stop running until he was in a storage cupboard down the hall from the shoot room. 

Fuck what the other people thought. Fuck them all. He needed to leave or he would've pounced on Erik.

" _ Erik _ \--" He half groaned as he leant his forehead on the back wall of the cupboard. He hadn't wanked in the shower since he was a teenager, and he hadn't  _ ever _ wanked in a cupboard, but everything had changed since he'd met Erik.

As quickly as he could, he unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans, slid them down to his knees with his boxers, and groaned as cool air brushed across his erection. He didn't think he'd ever been this hard in his life. He spat into his hand, wrapped his fingers around his cock and moaned. He closed his eyes instinctively, even though the cupboard was dark. 

His hand moved up and down his cock and quickly picked up speed, pure desperation powering him. He had already been insanely turned on when he left the studio, but visions of Erik floated to the front of his mind and he could hardly hold back. Automatically, his hips moved in tandem with his fist, and he bit his lower lip to prevent gasps from slipping between his lips.

His entire body was shaking with the force of his thrusts, and he struggled to wet his finger. He drooled on it very unattractively and reached around behind him. When he slipped his finger into himself and crooked it, he almost howled at the flood of sensation. He imagined that Erik was the one inside him, the one burying fingers deep into him, curling and pressing, and oh so demanding.

He heard Erik's name fall from his lips.

The first throes of an orgasm were beginning to rush through him when a voice spoke behind him.

"I could do that for you."

Charles released his grip on his cock, removed his finger, and span around. He couldn't see anything in the dark of the cupboard, but he recognised the voice.

"Erik?" His voice was dry and strained, and he suddenly understood how Raven knew he had recently gotten off.

"Charles." Erik's voice was deeper than usual, and Charles felt weak at the knees just from the sound of it. Maybe it was the interrupted orgasm. He wasn't sure. 

Charles was about to ask how the hell Erik had managed to sneak into the cupboard, but he was forced back onto the wall by a hand on his hip and an insistent pair of lips on his. He groaned into the kiss, and Erik took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Charles' mouth and grab at his other hip with his hand. Erik seemed to have a penchant for biting Charles' lower lip, because whenever their tongues weren't twisting around one another, Erik's teeth were pulling at Charles' lip until it ached. Charles' hands had found their home on either side of Erik's head, pushing them closer together.

"You're so--" Erik was speaking between breaths, speaking into their kiss rather than breaking it, "Fuck, Charles-- You're so hot."

Charles' body bucked into Erik's, and he held himself there for a moment, just pressing into Erik as they shared breaths and saliva. Erik was unusually hot, and Charles remembered that he was only wearing boxers.

"Are you naked?" He asked quietly as Erik's mouth planted a line of wet kisses down his jaw.

"Mostly." Erik murmured into the skin of his neck. One of Charles' hands flew up and grabbed Erik's hair as Erik's teeth and lips left a mark on Charles' neck.

" _ Shit _ ." Charles moaned as Erik's hands grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. He pulled back for a moment so he could slip the shirt over Charles' arms - which he raised willingly - and throw it on the floor somewhere behind him. Charles heard Erik's knees bang on the floor just as his lips moved down his torso, and he inhaled sharply.

Erik dragged his teeth across Charles' lower stomach and he whined. 

"Please--" He heard himself say, " _ Please _ ."

Erik seemed to understand, as he moved his mouth to the head of Charles' cock and took him into his mouth in one fluid movement. Charles cried Erik's name as he was engulfed in tight, hot heat. He would've come right then and there if Erik's fingers weren't circled around the base of his cock. 

Erik began to slide his mouth up and down Charles' erection, his wet mouth making sinful noises as his tongue repeatedly ran over the vein on the underside of his cock. Every time his lips found purchase around his head, his tongue would lick a slick line across his slit, and Charles' hips would jolt forward involuntarily.

For a second, Erik pulled back, and Charles whined. 

"Fuck my mouth."

Charles' eyes flew open, "What?"

"Fuck. My. Mouth." Erik almost growled. "As hard as you can."

And then his mouth was back on Charles' cock, and Charles couldn't help himself from obeying Erik's order. He thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding further into Erik's mouth, the muscles of Erik's throat clenching around him as he swallowed him down. He pulled back, then threw his hips forward again.

Erik moaned appreciatively and the hands that were on Charles' hips tightened. Charles settled into a pace that made Erik's mouth produce some heavenly sounds and sensations around his cock. Every other thrust, Erik's teeth would graze the underside of his shaft and Charles would have to bite his lip to stop the moans escaping his mouth. His hands were in Erik's hair, struggling for purchase as he shamelessly fucked Erik's mouth. God, he wished he could see him.

He could feel himself falling over the edge, but before he had time to ask about spit or swallow he was screaming Erik's name as he came into his mouth. Erik swallowed it all, his mouth gladly accepting every violent thrust of Charles' cock. For a second, Charles felt that he was being consumed by flames, and he was all too happy to let himself be burned.

When Charles was spent, his knees finally gave out and he slid to the floor. His pants had ended up around his ankles during the whole ordeal, so he pulled them off along with his shoes.

He felt hot wet lips on his, and he could taste himself on Erik's tongue. 

Erik pulled away and pressed his forehead against Charles'. He was breathing heavily.

Charles shifted until he was knelt in front of Erik. "My turn." His voice came out as a desperate growl. Erik made a surprised noise, then stood. Charles moved forwards blindly until his hands found purchase on Erik's hips. He ran his forefingers along the waistband of the boxers and pulled them down to Erik's ankles. 

He tilted his head forward until he could feel the hot, wet end of Erik's cock pressing against his mouth. "I haven't done this before." He said honestly as his lips brushed the head of Erik's cock. Erik groaned as Charles spoke.

"I'll talk you through it."

Charles would've kissed Erik if he wasn't knelt on the floor.

"Take me into your mouth." Erik commanded.

Charles obeyed, pulling as much of Erik's cock into his mouth as he could. He gagged a little bit, and Erik tutted. 

"Wrap your hand around the bit you can't comfortably fit in your mouth,  _ liebling _ ." Erik said quietly, "This is for your pleasure, too."

Charles did as he said. Erik's cock was somehow larger than it looked, and Charles could barely stretch his mouth wide enough to swallow even half of him down. He’d never tasted another man's cock before - in uni, he’d made it his life goal to self-fellate, but it just wasn’t worth the daily stretches and pelvis exercises - and he realised that he quite liked the flavour of the hot, sensitive flesh.

“Move your mouth up and down. Slowly.”

He did. Erik took in a shaky breath.

“Slower.”

Charles’ throat was complaining at the intrusion every single time he took Erik’s cock further into his mouth, but the quiet gasping noises that Erik made whenever Charles swallowed him down made it all worthwhile.

“Swirl your tongue around the head.” Erik whispered.

Charles experimented for a moment with his tongue until he discovered that it could perfectly slide around the tip of Erik’s cock with little effort. Fingers suddenly tugged at Charles’ hair, and Charles found his body flushing with arousal again. He moved his free hand from Erik’s hip to his own dick, and lazily stroked himself at the same pace of his head bobbing on Erik’s cock.

He could feel his lips stretching and burning as Erik started to make small thrusting motions with his hips. Charles’ jaw ached, and he felt briefly apologetic for the careless way he’d fucked Erik’s mouth.

“F-faster, Charles.”

He obeyed, and his eyes fluttered closed, from pleasure or discomfort, he didn’t know.

“You’re doing so good,  _ liebling _ .” Erik breathed, “Are you sure this is your first time?”

Charles swallowed around Erik’s cock, tasting the sharp tang of precome. He’d tasted his own on Erik’s lips, and the memory of that short, desperate kiss made heat curl in the bottom of his stomach. Erik’s barely-restrained howl dragged him out of the memory.

“That--  _ jesus _ , Charles, that was--  _ fuck _ .” 

Erik’s hips were thrusting faster and faster, so Charles relaxed his jaw as much as he could and allowed Erik to move in his mouth. He bobbed his head rhythmically, trying to match Erik’s pace. His hand was sat uselessly at the base of Erik’s cock, so he twisted his wrist and pulled his fist up Erik’s shaft as his mouth pulled back to the head. The hand on his own cock moved faster as Erik's noises of pleasure increased in volume.

“ _ Vögeln. _ ” Erik swore. Charles knew that word.  _ Fuck _ .

Charles’ knees were aching from the hard floor beneath them, and the gentle way he was rocking back and forth from his and Erik’s matching movements wasn’t helping. But, despite the slight burning pain, he was finding it oddly enjoyable. He worked his hand on his own cock and groaned slightly around Erik’s cock. His own arousal was sparking through him in electricity, and he could feel a second orgasm building under his skin.

“Charles,  _ Charles _ , I’m gonna,  _ fuck,  _ god, Charles-- I’m coming,  _ schieße _ .”

Charles braced himself, and as Erik’s hips lost all sense of rhythm and the fingers in his hair turned into fists that pulled at his locks and sent sensations rushing through his body, Erik yelled Charles’ name. Erik’s hips stuttered as hot pulses of come slid down his throat.

He drew back just a second too early, and a trail of come dripped down his chin. He continued to work Erik’s cock as he peaked, and just as Erik exhaled, Charles’ own building arousal shattered like glass and he came. His toes curled into the floor behind him, and for the second time in one day he felt like the Earth had stopped turning, and everything was just the tight sensation in his thighs, the strain in his arm, and the white light that exploded behind his eyelids.

When he had come down from the high, he staggered to his feet, his knees quivering, and Erik captured his sore lips in a kiss. 

“Shall we get out of here?”

“I hope you don’t mean for sex.” Charles complained, “I’m quite tired.”

“For a drink.”

Charles smiled into the darkness. He heard the faint click of a door handle, and a slit of light appeared in the doorway. Charles still couldn’t see much, but he could see his pants and underwear on the floor, and after he pulled them on, hopping around the small space available in the cupboard, he stepped into his shoes and stood up straight.

“You’re not wearing much, are you?” Charles asked. Erik laughed.

“Nothing.” There was a rustle, and Charles saw the silhouetted Erik bend over and pull his boxers up from his ankles.

“Won’t Raven wonder where we’ve been?”

“I’m sure she’s figured it out by now.” Erik snorted, then pushed the door open. Blinding light hit Charles, and he winced. The two of them stumbled out of the cupboard, blinking.

Erik’s chest was flushed pink, and his hair was mussed and dangling over his eyes. The faux sex hair that Rogue had styled for the shoot didn't compare to the real thing, and Charles couldn't resist the urge to push it back, running his fingers through the tangled locks. Erik was staring at him peculiarly.

"What?"

"You've got--" Erik pointed at his chin and smiled, "There's come on your face, Charles. If Raven hasn't figured out what we've been doing, that will be a dead giveaway." 

Erik leant forward and swiped his tongue across Charles' chin, up over his lower lip, and Charles chuckled at the tickling sensation. Erik stepped back, rolling his tongue around his mouth as if he were savouring the flavour of his own come.

"You filthy bastard." Charles shook his head at Erik, who laughed and slung his arm over Charles' shoulders.

"Come on,  _ liebling _ , I need to find some clothes." Erik twanged the waistband of his boxers with his free hand, "I can't walk to the bar dressed like this."

"Bar?"

"We're going for a drink, right? Like yesterday?"

"Oh, of course."

They walked over to the shoot studio together. Just before they walked in, Charles insisted that Erik remove his arm from his shoulders so they weren't overly suspicious. In spite of that, when they walked into the room every single head turned to look at them. Raven's face was priceless, and she was smiling at them knowingly. When Charles pressed two fingers to his temple, he heard a flurry of thoughts that were screaming with amusement.

Erik just pulled Charles into the dressing room with him, silently, and soon after he had gotten dressed they ran out of the studio and headed straight to the bar. They chose the same bar as last time, and even the bartender raised an eyebrow at their matching messy clothes and hair. Charles found himself not caring.

Charles loved drinking with Erik. He opened up about hilariously trivial things, and he called Charles  _ liebling _ more and more with every drink passed his lips. 

They ended up in Erik's bed, again. Charles had barely drank a thing, but he fell asleep almost immediately, nestled in the curve of Erik's naked body.

He was awoken at 1AM by a call from Raven.


	12. Chapter 12 - Erik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long one! Sorryyyyy...

When Erik fell asleep, he was wrapped around Charles. 

When Erik woke up, his bed was empty, and there was a scrap of paper next to his pillow.

He sat up, noting how quickly the room began to spin. Once his head had cleared, he picked up the scrap of paper and read what was written on it in messy writing.

_ Erik, _

_ I'm sorry I couldn't stay until the morning. Raven called me at 1 o'clock and wanted me at the airport. I'll be in LA by the time you wake up. It's an extended meeting for the LA branch of Red Cross.  _

_ I would've told you sooner, but I had no idea. Raven is completely unaware of the concept of forward planning. _

_ I'll be back on Monday. Call me or Skype me, if you want. _

_ Love, Charles. x _

_ P.S. My Skype is professorX _

_ P.P.S.  _ _ I love _ _ Please don't kill Raven for this.  _

Erik stared at the paper. Charles was going to be gone for five days? He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. The man who was potentially the love of his life was on the other side of the country, and he couldn't touch him or hold him for nearly a week.

He stared again at the last words. Charles had scribbled out the second P.S. and Erik wanted to believe that Charles was going to confess something. Knowing Charles, he was probably going to say ' _ I love your caramel macchiatos, send one to LA _ '.

Erik had absolutely no desire to get out of bed, but when he glanced at his phone and saw that it was nearly lunchtime, he decided that getting up might not be such a bad idea.

He took his phone with him. Was it too soon to call Charles?

He decided he'd wait until three o'clock. Charles was probably tired from the plane journey, and Erik needed to eat some food and get rid of his hangover before he was even coherent enough to talk to Charles.

But, by half twelve, he'd had a shower, eaten breakfast, drunk a pint of water, washed all the dishes, reorganised the cutlery drawer, and was out of things to do. Riptide was working in the shop all day, so he couldn't even go downstairs and work to pass the time.

He sat on the sofa, staring at his phone, swearing to himself as his feet bounced rhythmically off the floor. The radio was on, and there was a horrifically slow classical track playing, which wasn't helping his boredom. He raised his hand into the air and twisted it, and the knob on the radio turned and turned until he found a station he liked. 

One o'clock arrived, and Erik couldn't wait any longer. 

The phone was ringing before he'd even completely stood up. He paced around the room, anxious to walk off some of his energy. Every ring was dragging out longer than usual.

Charles picked up on the eighth ring.

" _ Erik _ ." It wasn't a question. It was a sigh of relief, and Erik felt every tensed muscle in his body relax. 

"Charles." He hoped his voice wasn't betraying him and showing how truly pleased he was to talk to Charles.

" _ How are you? _ "

"I'm fine. I miss you."

" _ I miss you too, Erik _ ." Charles sighed into the mouthpiece. " _ I wish I didn't have to be here. The meeting isn't even until Friday _ ."

"Really?"

" _ Yeah. Stupid Raven _ ." There was a loud bang from the other end of the line, and Erik smiled.

"Don't abuse your possessions,  _ liebling _ ."

" _ I'm in a hotel. These aren't my possessions, and I'll abuse them all I want. _ " Charles paused and there was a smaller bang, " _ I love it when you call me darling _ ."

_ I love you _ , Erik wanted to say. Instead, "I love calling you darling."

Erik supposed that was their way of saying they loved one another. He didn't even know if Charles loved him back, but it felt right. It felt like Charles loved him. And Erik hoped he did, because he couldn't imagine his life without him.

" _ I'm going to play golf with the head of the company today _ ." Charles said into the silence of their call.

"The great Professor Xavier playing golf?" Erik grinned and sat on the back of the sofa, "What is the world coming to?"

" _ You can't just say that whenever I can't do something. I'm a geneticist and a writer, not a  _ **_golfer_ ** ." Charles was laughing and  _ god,  _ Erik loved that laugh.

"Just hit the ball. It's not hard."

" _ Yeah, well, you were probably top of your sports class at school. I spent my school years inside, socialising with teachers _ ." Charles huffed, " _ When I was thirteen I was at the education level of a nineteen year old, and I was a pretentious little prick. I couldn't stand the company of anyone who hadn't been to university, and I made sure everyone knew it. _ "

"That does sound like the kind of thing the thirteen year old Charles would do."

Charles hummed in agreement. " _ Do you want to Skype? _ "

"Of course."

" _ I can't just now, what with the golf and everything. _ "

"That's okay." Erik invented an excuse wildly so Charles wouldn't think his life revolved around him, "I have a friend coming over this afternoon."

" _ Oh, who? _ "

"Hank."

" _ Hank who? _ "

"McCoy." Erik grinned, "Stop interrogating me and go play golf."

" _ Yessir! Skype you later. _ "

The line went dead, and Erik was left smiling into the phone, a pleasant buzz tingling across his skin. He had actually been planning to test Charles' flying theory from the previous morning, but he figured that the city was too busy to practice. He could always try in the backyard another day.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was going to tell Charles about his power. He wasn't even sure if he was going to tell him at all. It wasn't a big deal or anything, and he didn't use it for anything dramatic. He just moved cutlery and turned radio knobs. And caught laptops. 

Even if he did tell him, how would he start that conversation? 'Hey, Charles, man I’ve known for a week, can I talk to you about this weird mutant power I've had since I was born?'

Not exactly pillow talk.

Erik decided that moping around waiting to Skype Charles was not a good use of his time, so he picked up his phone again. He dialed Hank's number and waited for him to pick up.

" _ Erik! _ "

"Hey, Hank."

" _ What can I do for you? _ "

"Do you want to come over to mine this afternoon?"

" _ Why? _ " Hank's voice became suspicious, and Erik could practically hear the frown in his voice, " _ What's happened? _ "

"Nothing. I just want to talk. We can watch Star Wars if you like."

That always persuaded Hank. If Star Wars was part of the bribe, he was sure to agree to whatever was being asked of him. Hank was only twenty seven, and still studying at a college nearby, but he and Erik had become very good friends at a 3D Star Wars screening just after Erik had moved to the city. Hank was probably his best friend.

" _ Fine. I'll bring popcorn _ ." Erik heard a strange clicking noise and then a fizzing crackle, " _ Oh, shit. I gotta go. Be round soon! _ "

The phone fell silent and Erik smiled. Hank was renowned for his weird science experiments, and over the past four years Erik had learned not to ask about them. Ignorance was definitely bliss when it came to Hank's experiments.

Erik gathered together his Star Wars DVDs - one of them was next to the sink, for some unknown reason - and piled them next to the television. He dragged the sofa so it was facing the television a bit more, and moved the coffee table to accommodate.

He poured a glass of lemonade for Hank and a glass of water for himself, and set them on the table. Hank didn't live far away, and he usually arrived quite quickly.

A knock at the back door punctuated his thoughts, and he went to answer it. Hank was stood on the stairs clutching a bag of toffee popcorn, smiling.

"Hi Erik."

"Come on in." Erik stepped out of the way, and Hank bustled inside. He hung his jacket up on the back of the door and threw the popcorn onto the sofa.

Erik just watched, fascinated, as Hank kicked his shoes off and settled himself on the sofa. It was only when Hank frowned at him that he realised he was staring, "What's up?"

"You're quite comfortable around here, aren't you?"

Hank's eyes drifted to his coat, the popcorn, his discarded shoes. "Yeah." He shrugged, and Erik laughed.

"Before we watch Star Wars--"

"I knew that was a ploy to get me here." Hank smiled to himself as he opened the bag of popcorn. "I don't mind. Just say what you gotta say."

Erik knew he was blushing. Hank could always see right through him.

“Do you know Charles Xavier?”

Hank nodded, then spoke around a mouthful of popcorn, “He’s that charity guy, isn’t he? The one you called cute a couple of months back.” Hank pointed towards the opposite end of Erik’s apartment, “He’s got his picture up on the side of the Nomura building. The, uh, geneticist.”

Erik smiled, “Yeah. Him.”

“What about him?”

“I sucked his dick last night.”

Hank choked on a piece of popcorn. He released a stream of hacking coughs for a few seconds, his face gradually reddening as he stared at Erik. Erik just crossed his arms and watched.

“You sucked Charles Xavier’s cock?” Hank asked once he’d stopped coughing, “Wha-- how--  _ what?! _ ” If people could verbally speak in question marks, Hank would’ve been doing it right then. He looked completely out of it, like Erik had swung at him with a baseball bat.

“And he sucked mine.”

Hank just stared.

“Er, how?”

Erik laughed, “Y’see, Hank, when two people love one another very much--” Hank threw a piece of popcorn at his head to shut him up. Then, he swallowed and blinked a few times.

“Do you love him?”

Erik shrugged as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa to Hank. He slung his arm over the back of the sofa and mulled over his words before he spoke. “I think so.”

“Does he love you?”

“I don’t know.”

Hank actually laughed, and he picked up the glass of lemonade. He swallowed a mouthful of it, then pointed his finger accusingly at Erik, “You need to talk to him. Like, now.”

“Since when were you the expert on relationships?”

“Since when were  _ you  _ dating Charles Xavier?”

Erik grinned, “Eight days. Well, actually, that’s a lie. We’ve been ‘official’ since Sunday, I guess.”

“Eight days? And you think you love him? That’s unbelievable.”

Erik picked up his own drink and sipped at it. It  _ was  _ a little unconventional, but he’d read about people falling in love and getting married in two weeks. Why couldn’t he and Charles fall in love after eight days? Why was it so hard for everyone to understand?

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Why?”

“He’s in LA. He won’t be back for five days.” Erik swirled the water around in his glass, “A business meeting for the Red Cross.”

“Surely you can ring him.”

“He’s golfing with the head of the department today.” He smiled into his drink, “Very unlike Charles. We’re going to Skype tonight, I think.”

“Please,  _ please  _ don’t have webcam sex. That’s the worst kind.”

Erik laughed, “C’mon Hank, you know me. I’m not a camera whore. We haven’t even had real sex yet, so I’m not about to do it through a webcam.”

“I do know you. I also know that the only other person you’ve loved is Sebastian.” Hank pursed his lips and ran his thumb along his jaw. Erik could see his expression changing as thoughts flew across his mind. “That was a short affair. Just like this one with Charles."

“It’s not like that.” Erik defended, “Charles is special.”

“You said Sebastian was special, too.” Hank swallowed a mouthful of lemonade, “And look how that turned out.”

“It’s different. I was only twenty eight when I agreed to marry Sebastian. I’m thirty six now. I think I’m allowed a second chance at romance.” Erik could hear the bite in his voice, and he regretted it. 

Hank nodded absently, then looked Erik straight in the eyes, "Please look after yourself, Erik. You're my best friend, and I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"I can look after myself just fine, Hank." Erik stood and walked over to the TV. He held up the  _ A New Hope _ DVD, "Star Wars?"

"Always."

-

Hank stayed to watch  _ A New Hope _ , but when it ended he left almost immediately. 

Erik was quite sad to see him go, but the new loneliness at least meant he could Skype Charles. He pulled his laptop from under his bed and started it up. He settled himself on the sofa with the laptop on the table in front of him, and waited for Skype to load.

Hank had left some popcorn, so Erik munched on the remaining toffee crumbs as he searched for 'professorX' on Skype. There was - unsurprisingly - only one result under that name or any name similar to that, so Erik added him to his friends. Not too long after, he was accepted as a friend, and he opened up the messaging box.

_ magnet0: is this charles? _

_ professorX: Yes. Are you Erik? _

_ magnet0: yea. professorX?? rly? _

He'd never been a fan of typing in correct grammar when he was using a keyboard on a laptop or computer. He hoped Charles wouldn't mind too much.

_ professorX: It's classy. See, I'm a professor (of genetics, thank you very much) and my surname is Xavier. Ergo, professorX. _

_ magnet0: ur such a nerd! also, 'ergo'?? _

_ professorX: Oh, shut up, 'magnet0'. Why are you even called that? _

Erik held his breath. He could tell Charles about his power right now. Right this very second. 

Instead, he lied. 

_ magnet0: new skype acc, nd our convo about controllin metal rly stuck w/ me _

_ professorX: It's a nice name, anyways. _

_ magnet0: how was golf w/ the boss? _

_ professorX: Could've gone much worse, I must admit. I let him win, of course. _

_ magnet0: ofc _

_ professorX: I don't like this text speak you're using. I can hardly understand half of the acronyms. _

_ magnet0: whateva _

_ professorX: Anyhoo, we're here to Skype, not message one another. Care to start the video call? _

_ magnet0: ofc _

He clicked the small video icon at the side of the message screen and waited patiently as a small black box popped up and a pleasant bubbling loading sound greeted his ears. Charles voice suddenly split through the quiet bubbling. It was backdropped by static and crackles of electricity, but his voice was there.

"Charles?"

" _ Erik? Erik? _ "

"Charles, I'm right here."

" _ Erik? Can you hear me? _ "

"Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me?"

" _ Eri-i-i-k? _ "

"I'm here, goddamnit!" Erik almost yelled as he smashed his hands against the side of the laptop, trying to get Skype to work.

" _ Erik? _ "

"Charles." He moaned exasperatedly.

" _ Oh! Erik! I can hear you! _ "

"Thank god." 

" _ I can't see you. _ "

"I can't see you either."

" _ Not the best date _ ."

"This is a date?" Erik grinned as he clicked and re-clicked the video button, trying to get some image of himself and Charles onto the screen. Fuck, the connection was awful.

" _ Oh for heaven's sake, Erik, of course this is a date. _ " Charles laughed, and even though it was sullied by static, Erik could still hear the joy in it, " _ We're  _ **_dating_ ** _. Everything we do together is a date _ ."

"That date in the cupboard was our best so far I think."

" _ Yes, I suppose it was _ ."

Charles' face suddenly appeared on the screen, half blocked by black and white squares, but there all the same. He looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes, his scleras bloodshot, and his tired smile made him look slightly manic. His usually prim and proper attire was exchanged for what looked like pyjamas. Erik had honestly never loved him more.

"Charles, I can see you."

" _ I can't see you yet _ ." Charles' video counterpart was a few seconds behind his speech, but it sped up with every movement Charles made. The blocks were beginning to dissipate, too.

"Nice pyjamas."

Charles smiled and looked down at his t-shirt. He pulled it up over his face, revealing an inch of bare skin, and he pointed at the design on the front of the white t-shirt. It was a pair of yellow spectacles over piercing blue eyes, and the inscription beneath the illustration read 'JUDGING YOU'.

"What does it mean?"

" _ It's Gatsby, you dope. ‘The Great Gatsby’? It's a book. I'll lend you my copy when I get home from LA _ ." Charles pulled his shirt back down, then he grinned at the screen. " _ I can see you! _ "

Erik waved. Charles smiled and waved back.

"Why did you have to go to LA?"

" _ If Raven asks me to do something, I do it _ ."

Erik raised an eyebrow, "You skipped work for nearly a whole week and came to  _ Die Kaffebohne _ every single day."

" _ Well, she didn't ask me to work. Plus, I was working on my book. That's what I'm going to do while I'm here in LA _ ." Charles leant over the webcams and when he sat back down he had a notebook in his hand, " _ I'm going to write as much as I can between meetings and _ \--" He shivered, " _ Golf _ ."

"It's not that bad."

" _ It is when you have to talk to stuffy old bald men for three hours _ ." Charles ran his hand through his hair nervously, as if he were afraid he was going to lose all his hair just from associating with bald men.

"You'll be a stuffy old bald man some day." Erik pursed his lips, "Honestly, you're fairly stuffy at the moment."

Charles rolled his eyes and leant on his hand, " _ I wish I was back in Manhattan just so I could smack you for saying that _ ."

"And I wish you were back in Manhattan just so I could smack  _ you _ for saying  _ that _ ." Erik laughed, "I'm offended that the only reason you want to return is so you can give me a bruise on the arm."

Now it was Charles' turn to laugh, " _ Oh, come on, Erik, we both know I'm the weakest person in the entire city. There's no chance I'd bruise you _ ."

"If I were you, I'd take that as a challenge."

" _ I am not going to deliberately try and bruise you, Erik _ !" Charles leant back in his chair and smiled absently, " _ I mean, accidental bruising as a result of sexual contact-- _ "

"I won't blame you for that."

" _ Thank  _ **_god_ ** _. _ "

They stared at each other for a moment, just smiling. Erik really missed him. Seeing Charles' face through a screen just wasn't the same as seeing him in the flesh, and he missed the taste of his lips terribly.

" _ Oh, Erik, I had an idea earlier _ ."

"Go on."

" _ Do you know how to play chess? _ "

"Of course."

Charles leant over the webcam again and returned with his phone. He dragged his finger across the screen a few times, then turned the phone around to show Erik. Once the webcam had focused and accounted for the bright light of the phone screen, he saw a chessboard displayed.

"Virtual chess?"

" _ It's an app. We can play together, and it'll update live so it's like we're actually playing _ ." Charles peered at his phone screen for a few seconds. " _ It's called Premier Chess _ ."

"I'll download it."

He did, willingly paying the small fee, and waited as it loaded.

" _ I'm 'professorX' on there, too _ ."

"Be careful, Charles. That name is catching on." Erik searched his username, and found that he was waiting for a match partner. He clicked it and watched as a chessboard loaded.

Charles grinned at his own phone. " _ I'll be white _ ."

"I prefer black, anyway."

" _ No cheating _ ."

"I don't think I can cheat." Erik watched as one of the white pawns slid forward two spaces. "It is a virtual game, after all." He moved one of his own pawns forward a space.

" _ Are you saying you cheat at real chess? _ "

"I never said that."

Erik glanced up at the Skype call. Charles had curled into a ball, his phone resting on his thighs as he stared at it intently. He looked so peaceful. Another of the white pawns moved forward a space.

" _ I abhor this stage of chess _ ." Charles said quietly as Erik made his move, " _ It's so dull. You can hardly do anything _ ."

"This is the real challenge of playing chess,  _ liebling _ ." Erik smiled to himself as he watched one of Charles' knights break free from the safety of the pawns. "It's not getting the king into check. No, anyone can do that." Erik slid his bishop across the board and took Charles' knight. "It's knowing when to move in the early stages."

He glanced up at the screen again. Charles was moving his finger across his phone screen with a grin on his face, so Erik dropped his gaze back to his own phone. A white bishop had swept across the board and taken Erik's bishop. He looked up at the laptop screen. Charles was smiling at him evilly. 

" _ The real challenge of chess is not becoming a cocky arse _ ." Charles said with a chuckle. " _ Honestly, Erik, you said you knew how to play chess _ ."

Erik frowned at his screen as he moved another pawn forward a space, "I'm just a little rusty." 

" _ Of course you are _ ."

For the second time that evening, Erik wished Charles was back in Manhattan just so he could smack him. He instead settled for flicking the webcam with his finger, which caused an awful screeching noise to blare out from Charles' speakers. 

Charles laughed senselessly as he tried to silence the noise, and Erik laughed so hard at his frantic methods of trying to fix Skype - including banging the laptop with his shoe - that he slipped off the sofa and landed on the floor. That only made him laugh harder, and Charles' cackles became silent as he watched Erik giggling on the floor.

Once Erik had stopped uncontrollably snorting and climbed back onto the sofa, he wiped his eyes and through the tail end of a chuckle he said, " _ God _ , Charles _ , _ I love you."

Erik felt a cold trickle of fear run through him. He really, really hadn't meant to say that. He glanced nervously up at the screen, but he was surprised by what he saw. Charles didn't react at all to his accidental confession. He just smiled and moved another of his pawns forward, and said in an entirely relaxed voice, " _ I love you too, dear. _ "

Erik didn't realise he was staring blankly at Charles through the screen until Charles looked up from his phone and murmured, "Your turn."

Erik exhaled and moved his most recently moved pawn forward a space. 

They played for another hour, the two of them battling it out over what felt like the most important game of chess Erik had ever played. But, of course, Charles won in the end, after cornering Erik's defenceless king with two pawns, a bishop and his reclaimed queen.

When they ended the Skype call much, much later (after they had talked meaninglessly about Raven and Hank and the most recent Captain America trailer, and Charles had explained that he couldn't Skype tomorrow due to being caught up in small meetings all day) Charles looks exhausted and Erik felt just as tired as Charles looked. 

"Goodnight,  _ liebling _ ." He said as he leant over to end the call.

Charles smiled at that, " _ Goodnight, Erik _ ." Then, " _ Love you. _ "

Erik couldn't help but smile, and for a moment everything made perfect sense. And he said, in a voice that surely reflected the warmth he was feeling inside his chest, "Love you too, Charles."


	13. Chapter 13 - Charles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another long one! Christ, sorry.

Charles let Erik's name fall from his lips in a strangled moan as he slid down the tiled wall and collapsed onto the floor of the shower. He wasn't exactly going to deny that he thought about Erik when he wanked in the shower, especially considering they both admitted that they loved each other two days prior. 

He'd been absolutely terrified to speak to Erik about his feelings, and he was worried that he would never be able to tell Erik that he loved him. But then, Erik - beautiful, wonderful,  _ perfect _ Erik - went ahead and said it first. 

They hadn't talked since it happened, aside from a few texts before bed and in the morning, because Charles had been so busy with minor meetings with different heads of departments, and Charles was beginning to miss Erik's near-constant presence in his life. 

If Raven complained to him about wanking before this big meeting, he was going to fly back to Manhattan and smack her.

His big meeting wasn’t until the afternoon, and Charles had a couple of hours to kill. He dried himself with one of the white fluffy complimentary towels that the hotel had given him, and tied it around his waist. He walked over to his laptop and turned it on, and smiled when he saw that there was a message waiting for him on Skype.

_ magnet0: gmornin liebling <3 _

Erik had put a heart at the end. How precious. Charles placed the laptop on the small table in the centre of the room, and angled it towards the blank wall next to the desk, then knelt in front of it. He was fully intending to plot out a few chapters of his novel on the wall using some brightly coloured craft supplies he’d smuggled out of his office in Manhattan, and as he wanted to talk to Erik on Skype until he went to his meeting, he figured he could get Erik’s input on a few plot points.

After all, Erik had a quiet desire to write his own novel. He could certainly help Charles write his.

_ professorX: Good morning. I’m waiting for your call. _

Almost immediately after he’d sent the message, a call notification appeared on the screen, and happy bubbly music began to play. He accepted the call and couldn’t stop a smile from curving his lips when Erik appeared on the screen - it was a grainy, juddery feed, but it was still Erik. 

“Good morning, darling.” He said almost instinctively.

“ _ Good morning _ .” Erik was smiling into the webcam, his joy evident even through the screen, " _ How did you sleep? _ ”

“Not well. I’ve kinda gotten used to sleeping with you.” Charles said honestly.

“ _ We’ve only done that for two nights.”  _

“And I want to do it for more nights _. _ ” Charles laughed, “Every night, forever. ‘Till I die.”

“ _ Is that a proposal?”  _ Erik was grinning now, his eyes creasing in the corners.

“Don’t make me beg, Erik Lehnsherr.” Charles waggled his finger at the webcam, not entirely sure if he was joking or not. “You know that I would.”

“ _Such a confession._ _I’d accept, if you did ask. Or beg, for that matter."_

“I’m not asking.” He had to hold back the ‘yet’ that threatened to burst from his chest. Charles honestly didn’t know what was the matter with him. He barely knew Erik, but he knew deep inside that he wouldn’t even hesitate to spend his whole life with him.

God, when had he fallen so head-over-heels for this man?

“ _ Shame _ .” Erik said absently as he picked at one of the fingernails on his hand. If he hadn’t been smiling slightly, Charles would’ve assumed he was upset. But he  _ was  _ smiling. " _ It would've been so nice to see you beg _ ."

"There's still time for that." Charles said without thinking. He felt a hot blush bloom across his jaw and he covered his embarrassed smile with his hand. Erik glanced up at him and laughed to himself, his eyes sparkling. Charles stood and tilted the computer screen up with him so the webcam stayed on his face, and turned to face the wall behind him. "I'm planning my novel today."

" _ Oh? _ "

"'Oh' indeed." Charles said as he pinned the first sheet of yellow sugar paper to the wall, "I like to plan visually, with colours and lines." He picked up a larger piece of blue sugar paper and pinned it next to the yellow one. 

" _ I can see _ ." Erik said from behind him, " _ You're going to ruin that wall, y'know _ ."

"It's not my wall." Charles murmured as he pinned a small pink piece of sugar paper above the blue one, "I paid for this hotel room, and--" He turned and looked into the webcam, rolling a pin between his thumb and forefinger, "--It costs a lot to book a hotel room on such short notice. So, I'm going to stick pins in the wall." 

Charles turned back to the wall and stuck the pin into it to prove his point. Erik snickered behind him, his outburst mechanised by the speakers. " _ Revolutionary actions, Charles _ ."

"The revolution was started by two men." Charles commented as he continued to pin sugar paper to the walls, "Who knows, Erik... We could be those men."

" _ Unless we're starting the Earl Grey revolution, I think we should keep our aspirations lower down the ladder of social conquest _ ."

"Perhaps."

He pinned the final piece of sugar paper to the wall and stepped back to admire the splash of vibrant colour that had invaded the monochromatic still of the hotel room. 

" _ Honestly, Charles, your towelled ass could not be closer to the webcam _ ."

Charles blushed and span on the spot.

" _ Now I'm just staring at your towelled crotch _ ." Erik laughed around his words, " _ This is such a good morning _ ." Charles responded by dropping to his knees in front of the webcam.

"I'd rather you stare at me like that with  _ all _ my clothes off, Erik." Charles readjusted the towel around his waist.

" _ So would I. _ "

They held eye contact - as best as they could through two webcams and 2500 miles of separation - for a moment, as silence filled both ends of the call. Charles could hear his pulse in his ears. He'd not had Erik's hands on him for two days, and he missed the sensation of his soft hands running down his midriff. 

" _ Get back to work, Charles _ ." Erik said gruffly as he broke the eye contact and looked away from the webcam, " _ As much as I'd like to make you come when I'm two and a half thousand miles away from you, I've been reliably informed that webcam sex is the worst kind of sex. _ " Charles looked up at the screen again. Erik's eyes were gliding across Charles' bare torso, and Charles could almost feel the hot intensity of his glare. Erik's eyes flicked up to meet Charles', " _ Please get dressed. Your naked body is awfully distracting. _ " 

"I'm not naked." Charles said quietly, "I'm wearing a towel."

" _ Go and get dressed _ ." Erik commanded, " _ Now. Don't make me fly over to LA and dress you myself. _ "

Charles wasn't going to disobey Erik, especially when his voice had taken on such a commanding tone. He was sure that Erik would make a glorious army officer. He stood and went into the hotel bedroom.

Honestly, he didn't have many casual clothes. After staring at the rack of shirts and pants for a minute or so, he retrieved the plain white shirt that belonged to Erik, and a pair of grey jeans. The jeans didn't really fit and they were a little tight on his hips - he decided he would lose some weight as soon as he was settled properly with Red Cross - but he would be changing into a suit for the meeting in a few hours, anyway, so this was only temporary.

He got dressed quite slowly, in no hurry to return to planning his novel. Charles wouldn't call himself a procrastinator, usually, but when it came to his novel he found it all too easy to waste time. He pulled the pants up over his thighs and jumped up and down a few times to slide them up over his hips.

A guttural, unfamiliar noise split the silence of his room and he froze. Was someone in the hotel room with him? He was seriously considering gathering a weapon when he remembered that Erik was on the Skype call in the next room. He was probably just complaining that Charles was taking too long.

Charles buttoned up his jeans and quickly tugged the shirt over his head. He shook his arms and hopped a few times from leg to leg to loosen his joints, then returned to the front room.

A strange, vaguely familiar noise was coming from the laptop. When he knelt on his knees in front of it, and saw what was happening, his mouth dropped open.

Erik was still sat on the sofa in front of his own webcam, but his jeans were pushed down to his ankles, and his boxers were halfway down his thighs. His head was thrown back against the back of the sofa, his teeth were biting down on his lower lip, and all the skin that Charles could see was flushed pink. 

There was absolutely no doubt about what Erik was doing. His hand was resolutely wrapped around his cock, and he was shamelessly fucking the circle of his fingers. His breath was coming out in short pants, and Charles was no expert on the mechanics of Erik’s masturbation, but he looked like he was very, very close to the brink of orgasm.

He could feel his arousal - and latent embarrassment - burning through him, prickling heat dancing up his spine and a tight ball of desire smouldering in his stomach like dying flames. He refused to be turned on; he had too much to do today. 

“E-Erik?” Charles heard himself say, his voice coming out higher and squeakier than he’d ever heard it.

Erik's eyes flew open and his head tipped forward. He let out a choked moan as his eyes met Charles', and he came, his entire body jolting and tightening as he arched away from the back of the sofa. He covered the end of his cock with his free hand and Charles watched, feeling slightly perverted, as his come trickled down his hand and his wrist. 

Erik sighed and collapsed backwards into the cushions behind him, his come-coated hand falling onto the sofa next to him. His eyes fluttered shut as his breathing slowed.

Charles was transfixed, his eyes trailing over Erik's steadily loosening arm muscles, over the tight line of his thighs, the trail of come that tainted the skin of his wrist. But he found the strength to say, "You're going to ruin your sofa if you leave your hand on there any longer."

Erik's eyes opened, and he smiled lazily, " _ Sorry you had to see that. _ "

"Don't apologise." Charles smiled back at him, "I certainly wasn't expecting it, but I'm not complaining."

" _ I just needed to get it out of my system _ ."

"I understand."

" _ You're just too damn fuckable, Charles, do you know that? _ "

"No." Charles shifted his position, his knees clicking, "But judging by that display,  _ you _ know that."

Erik hummed in agreement, then suddenly clambered off the sofa and, using his clean hand, pulled his boxers up - Charles was honestly quite sad to see Erik's beautiful cock hidden away again - and tugged his jeans up over his hips. He didn't bother fastening them. He sat back down and yawned. " _ That always tires me out _ ."

"Having an orgasm?"

" _ Nah, masturbating _ ." Erik laughed dryly, " _ I could have sex for days on end, but the second I have to do it by myself, it sends me right off to sleep _ ."

"It didn't look that boring to me."

Erik waved his hand and chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. He moved his hand to his mouth and absently swiped his tongue across the come that was coating his skin. Charles choked. Erik swallowed the come and made a noise of satisfaction, his wet tongue darting out between swallows to lick every drop from the palm of his hand. He sucked each finger individually into his mouth and made obscene sucking noises around each one. His eyes were fixed on Charles as he pulled his forefinger into his mouth, all the way to the knuckle.

"I have--" Charles checked his phone wildly, trying to avert his eyes from Erik's filthy display, "Four hours until my meeting. I'm going to plan, and you're going to help, whether you like it or not."

Erik released his pinky finger with a wet popping sound, then nodded. " _ That's fine _ ."

Charles could feel his arousal returning at the sight of Erik with reddened lips and a drop of come in the corner of his mouth, but he maintained his cool demeanour as much as he could.

"And no more wanking." Charles smiled before he stood up and turned to face the sugar-papered wall, his knees shaking, "It's awfully distracting." He repeated Erik's earlier comment, and Erik laughed softly from behind him. 

Charles picked up a black marker pen and quickly scribbled out a brief outline of what he'd already written. He spoke and explained the plot as he wrote, and Erik made little noises of agreement along with him.

" _ Why is Martin doing all this for his brother? _ " Erik asked suddenly, just as Charles capped the pen. “ _ It seems a little extreme. _ ”

"Because he loves him." Charles knelt in front of the laptop again, "He doesn't want him to  _ die _ , obviously.

" _ He's only got a broken leg. _ "

"Do you know how much American medical bills are?" Charles retorted, "When I was a toddler, my mother broke her ankle. It cost $7000 just to strap it up. Plus, the Goodwin brothers are renowned for their affection for one another in their hometown.”

“ _ But Leo abused him when they were younger _ .”

Charles nodded, “It gave him a false sense of duty. Don’t worry, I’ll touch on that later on in the novel. Martin’s lover, Killian, is a therapist--”

“ _ He’s gay? _ ” Erik said abruptly. Charles watched as his expression changed with his thoughts. He was sure that he’d told Erik that his protagonist was gay; it was quite a major plot point, especially considering Killian would go on to kill Leo for Martin. 

“Yeah.” Charles ran his hand through his hair, “Killian meets Martin in the street, entirely on accident, then they fall in love. It’s quite dramatic.”

Erik chewed his lip thoughtfully, then leant forward on the sofa. His unbuttoned jeans made a clicking noise as he moved, and Charles held back a smile.

“ _ This plot is awful, Charles _ .”

Charles frowned. “What do you mean?”

“ _ For one thing, no one will buy a novel about two homosexual adult men _ .” Erik looked as if he felt guilty for speaking out, and Charles was filled with a rush of love for him, “ _ It’s such a niche, even in the general novel market. You’d be best having a female love interest. Also, Martin’s motives aren’t quite good enough to qualify his actions _ .”

Charles listened intently and smiled, “You’re quite the novelist, aren’t you, dear?”

Erik blushed, “ _ I like to think so _ .” Then he sobered and leant back again, “ _ I just think you should rethink this plot. Maybe make it a bit simpler. More realistic." _

“Martin is staying gay.”

“ _ That’s fine. But it might be good for you to give him a bit of a bisexual panic _ .”

“Why?”

“ _ Readers love it when a character is conflicted over his sexuality _ .” Erik mused, “ _ You could always have him deciding to settle with Killian, but you should introduce a female character to the plot at some point to mix it up. _ ”

Charles ran his thumb across his lower lip as ideas flew through his mind, “She could be Leo’s half-sister.”

“ _ Good, Charles _ .” Erik smiled, “ _ More _ .”

“Wants Leo to die so she can inherit his fortune. She doesn’t want Martin to fund his recovery.”

“ _ Sounds good _ .”

“She tries to seduce Martin.” Charles was rubbing his hands together excitedly as a plot formed in his head, “Killian is jealous when he finds them alone together, and he vows to kill Leo--”

Erik held both of his hands up and laughed, “ _ Why is he killing Leo? _ ”

“That’s part of the story.”

“ _ Take it out. That type of plot twist does not belong in a romantic novel _ .”

“Fine.” Charles stood and turned to face the wall of paper. “Talk me through it.”

Erik did, and they continued to plot together until two o’clock rolled around. Charles didn’t want to leave the wall of black marker planning, or Erik, but he had a meeting to attend. He said farewell to Erik - who blew a kiss at the camera - and got dressed for his meeting.

-

Charles arrived a few minutes early for the meeting, so he got the best seat next to the fan in the corner of the room. English fans were always terrible, and only blew the hot air into the user’s face at a higher velocity, but American fans were built to handle heat waves, and it was always nice to sit next to one.

He hung his jacket off the back of his chair and sat enjoying the cool rush of air, until the other members of the board who were taking part in the meeting came into the room, looking hassled and sweaty. Charles leapt up from his chair and went to greet them.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Charles greeted them, shaking each of their hands in turn. He only knew two of the five men, but there was nothing wrong with being polite.

“Hello, Professor Xavier.” The head of the department, Mr Callaghan, shook Charles’ hand last, and smiled at him.

Charles held up his hand, “Please, no one calls me Professor. I firmly believe that only graduates who actively  _ teach  _ their degree topic should be called Professor.”

Mr Callaghan grinned at that and dropped Charles’ hand, “You’re a very charismatic man, Charles.”

“I try my best.” Charles said with what he hoped was a winning smile.

Mr Callaghan took his place at the front of the room, and Charles returned quickly to his seat. He settled into the plush chair, fully aware that he would be sat there for several hours. The meeting, according to Raven’s brief and unexpected text, was about campaigning in Manhattan. Charles  wasn’t exactly sure why he had to go all the way to LA for this meeting, but he was loath to read Mr Callaghan’s thoughts and find out the answer to his musings.

“Alright, gentlemen.” Mr Callaghan took his seat at the front of the room, and shuffled some papers around on his desk. Charles sat back in his chair and relaxed. “Let’s start. The first point up for discussion is the advertising in Chicago. My superiors feel that the South West district is lacking in smaller advertisements like flyers and posters.”

The man across from Charles - he didn’t know his name - raised his hand and mentioned something about the lack of wall space in the city, and Charles laughed to himself.  _ Lack of wall space, my arse _ , he thought.  _ It’s the third biggest city in the U.S. _

"We need a representative to work in Chicago once a month, just for a few days at a time." Mr Callaghan proclaimed. "Mr Quince, I thought you might be interested."

"I'm not sure my wife would be too happy, sir."

"It's only a couple of days a month, surely--"

Charles was hardly listening anymore. His mind had drifted away from the campaigning in major U.S. cities, and was directed towards the cubicle across the corridor from the meeting room. There was a woman sat in the cubicle with her feet on the desk, and she was sucking on a lollipop. Charles couldn't drag his eyes away from the sight of her lips wrapped around the red ball of sweetness.

His gaze may have shown an interest in the woman, but his mind was thinking of far dirtier things. Visions of Erik sucking come off his own fingers as he stared straight at Charles were floating in Charles' mind, and he couldn't help himself from imagining Erik's lips wrapped around something else.

In the cupboard, he'd not even seen Erik when he blew him. He'd not seen his red lips sucking on Charles' cock, not seen the way his eyes widened as Charles obeyed his request to fuck his mouth. 

Charles' mouth went dry as a vivid, graphic vision of Erik's hot mouth around him appeared in his mind. Every flick of Erik's tongue, every hint of pressure, every sharp sting of grazing teeth-- it came back to him, sending his body into fits of conflicted pleasure. Oh,  _ God _ , he wanted to see Erik beg in front of him, see him  _ keen _ , see him--

Charles was startled by the sound of his name. He blinked a few times, and realised that he'd drifted off into a daydream. He sat up, noting silently that he was half-hard in his pants, and stared blankly at Mr Callaghan.

"Are you onboard with the LA plan, Charles?"

Charles blinked a few more times, realised that everyone was staring at him expectantly, and answered hastily, "Yes, yes, of course I am."

Mr Callaghan smiled and clapped his hands together. "That settles it, then!" His smiled widened, "Mr Quince will work in Chicago the last two days of every month to increase flyer distribution in the West and South West districts, Mr Hall will move up to the north of Houston and take up a position there, and--" Mr Callaghan turned to look at Charles, "Mr Xavier will move to Los Angeles for the foreseeable future and host all the Red Cross campaigning there."

Charles' blood ran cold.

Move... to LA?

He wanted to speak up, wanted to ask why, how, but the other gentlemen were gathering their notes and standing up. Was the meeting over? How long had he been daydreaming?

Charles lingered until just he and Mr Callaghan were in the room together.

"Mr Callaghan?"

The man in question turned to look at Charles, and grinned widely, "Ah, Charles. My hero!"

Charles winced at the familiar nickname. 

"This meeting length was cut in half thanks to your quick decision making." Mr Callaghan said cheerfully, "I'm absolutely delighted you've decided to move here."

"Y-yes, I am also." Charles forced a smile.

"You'll be moved in within the week. We have a lovely little house ready for you in one of the quieter, nicer parts of the city. It's right across from a park, and I ensured you weren't near a busy road." Mr Callaghan clapped Charles on the shoulder, "Far better than your little apartment in Manhattan."

Charles felt like he'd been hit with a hammer between the legs. Manhattan. 49th St.  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ .

Erik. 

How was he going to tell Erik? How could he possibly explain? Charles wasn’t even going to be back in Manhattan for another 48 hours, at least. He couldn’t tell Erik about such a major life decision over the  _ phone _ , for heaven’s sake. Even over Skype, it would be so impersonal, so meaningless, and Erik would probably hate him, and--

"Charles?" The sound of Mr Callaghan's concerned voice broke Charles out of the slight inward panic he was having. "Are you alright?

"Ah, yes, yes." Charles said hastily, "Just thinking about, er, moving here. I'm quite excited."

"As you should be." Mr Callaghan smiled. "When's your flight back to Manhattan?"

"Monday, sir."

"And you're not due to move in until Sunday, if my informant is to be believed. Plenty of time to pack your belongings and send them over."

Charles nodded and smiled absently, his mind elsewhere. He had to move to LA. Two and a half thousand miles away from Erik. Permanently. 

His beautiful, perfect life had suddenly become a nightmare.


	14. Chapter 14 - Erik

Erik hadn't really spoken to Charles since his big meeting in LA. He supposed Charles was busy with work, or golf, as he had been in the two days leading up to the meeting. He'd demanded that Riptide take a few days off so that Erik could work and keep himself busy.

Every time Erik's phone let out the sharp metallic tone that told him he had received a text message, he flinched and went straight for his phone. The previous morning, he'd slipped in the shower trying to lunge for his phone, and there was a splash of purple bruising on the side of his hip. It had occurred to him to use his power, but he worried that the magnetic field would ruin his phone. 

Erik was only sat quietly eating on his lunch break when Charles texted him on the day of his return to Manhattan, but he ended up with hot tomato soup all over him. 

**> >** Charles [11:56]   
_ My flight is in half an hour. I'll be home by seven o'clock. x _

Erik furiously typed out a reply, even as the boiling soup on his thighs burned his skin. 

**< <** Me [11:56]   
_ What flight number? Which airport? _

**> > ** Charles [11:57]   
_ Why do you care? ;) x _

**< <** Me [11:58]   
_ I want to come and meet you. _

**> >** Charles [11:58]   
_ Jesus, Erik. Are you trying to make me love you more than I already do? x _

Erik smiled at his phone as a second text arrived.

**> >** Charles [11:59]   
_ Only, I don't think I can love you more than I already do. x _

**< <** Me [12:00]   
_ That sounds like a challenge, liebling.  _

**> >** Charles [12:02]   
_ A challenge you'll fail. Should I have a McDonald's or a Burger King? x _

**< <** Me [12:03]   
_ McDonald's. Burger King fries are too heavy for a six hour flight. I recommend the sweet chilli chicken wraps from McDonald's. _

**> >** Charles [12:05]    
_ I was just going to have a burger, but that sounds absolutely delicious. x _

**< <** Me [12:05]   
_ My all time favourite. _

A customer walked up to the counter and tapped on the worktop impatiently. Erik slipped his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and started to make the customer’s drink, trying to resist the urge to grab his phone when it made the familiar tinny notification sound. When the customer had paid and left, he quickly sat down and retrieved his phone.

**> >** Charles [12:12]   
_ This wrap is bloody delicious, Erik. x _

**< <** Me [12:13]   
_ I told you. Now what’s your flight number? _

**> >** Charles [12:19]   
_ 618\. I’m flying into Newark airport. Must dash. See you at the gate, darling. x _

**< < ** Me [12:20]   
_ See you then. <3 _

**> > ** Charles [12:20]   
_ Gay. x _

**< < ** Me [12:21]    
_ Yeah. _

Charles didn’t reply. Erik assumed he’d gone to the gate, so he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He had a few menial jobs to do around the shop, like cleaning the tables and removing the persistent dust from the divides between the booths. Quietly, he sat about performing all the tasks he could pluck from his mental list. Occasionally a customer came into the cafe and he had to dart over to the counter and serve them, but he had an otherwise uneventful afternoon. 

He supposed that the universe was just building up a crescendo to the arrival of Charles in Manhattan. 

Fuck, he missed him. 

He really, really,  _ really _ missed him. Erik missed him so much his chest ached whenever he thought about him. He didn't know what he would do when he saw Charles

By five o'clock, Erik was itching to go to the airport. He could practically hear the maddening  _ tick tick tick  _ of the clock on the wall. 

By five thirty, the sun had begun to set and long shadows were creeping into the shop. 

By six o'clock, Erik had done enough waiting. He threw his dishcloth over the counter, and in a few short moments he had locked the door and hailed a cab. 

In the cab ride to the airport, Erik couldn't keep still. Charles wouldn't land for another hour at least, but knowing that Charles was steadily getting closer and closer to him was driving Erik insane. His fingers were bouncing on his thighs, and every car horn and siren made his head snap up. They were waiting at lights when a dog ran past the cab, barking, and Erik jumped. 

"You alright, bud?" The cab driver asked loudly. He was staring in the rear view mirror at Erik, his thick eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Fine, fine," Erik answered honestly, "I'm meeting someone at the airport. I'm excited."

The driver chuckled knowingly as they pulled away from the lights, "Meetin' your woman, huh?"

Erik couldn't help but smile. "Something like that."

They slipped into an almost awkward silence as they got closer and closer to the airport, but Erik was shaking with barely contained excitement, and didn't care at all. The cab cost twenty three dollars and Erik barely had enough money for a cup of tea; he was saving money for the cab ride home. 

"Fucking American tea. Not even a real tea bag." He muttered to himself as he sat down in the waiting lounge, stirring sugar into the tea with a wooden stirrer. A woman sat on the seats across from him glanced up at his voice and glared at him, but returned to reading her paper. 

Erik scanned the expansive waiting room briefly, taking in all the tired faces of travellers and the excited faces of those waiting to meet family and friends. He had always felt oddly at home in an airport. Every person in an airport had a tale to tell, and Erik wanted to hear them all.  

But, then again, he could just play Peggle on his phone.

He did, for a few minutes, then the booming voice of a mechanical woman split the almost silent air of the waiting lounge, and announced that flight 617 had just landed. Erik sat up straight in his seat. Charles' flight was the next to land. 

His thumb had slid towards the message app on his phone before he knew what he was doing. He typed furiously to Charles, trying his best not to bounce in his chair out of sheer excitement.

**< <** Me [18:43]   
_ Your plane is nearly here. I wouldn't say I'm excited, persay, but there is a woman across from me who thinks my occasional screech of anticipation is more interesting than her newspaper. _

**< <** Me [18:47]   
_ I'm not actually screeching, I swear.  _

**< <** Me [18:51]   
_ Can you make the plane go faster, please? _

**< <** Me [18:54]   
_ I'm bored. I love you. _

**< <** Me [18:59]   
_ You'd better be on time. If you're late I'm never going to kiss you again. _

The mechanical tones of the woman exploded through the speakers again. She announced rather cheerily that flight 618 had landed. Erik stood bolt upright. 

His feet took him over to the gate outside the lounge, and he leant on a wall and waited for the people to spill out from the gate. He thought it was strange that he was the only person waiting so close to the gate, but he ignored his misgivings.

Charles was in the airport. He was coming towards Erik. Erik bit his knuckles to stop himself from actually screeching in excitement. 

A few minutes passed, and there was no sign of anyone. He pulled out his phone.

**< <** Me [19:12]   
_ Get your ass out of this gate ASAP or I'm disowning you.  _

His heart was beating unusually fast, and he could hear his pulse in his ears. No one had come out of the gate yet. Where was everyone? Where was Charles?

**< <** Me [19:22]   
_ Baggage claim doesn't take this long. Are you avoiding me? ;) _

Erik sent the text, and then his phone faded to black. He swore aloud, and slipped it into his pocket. 

Another thirty minutes passed, and Erik lost hope. He walked towards the doors of the airport and waited under a canopy - it had begun to rain while he'd been inside - for a cab to pull up. There was no way Charles was really delayed by so much time.

Maybe he'd gotten the flight number wrong. Or the airport.

Erik climbed into a cab, and was slightly surprised to see that it was the same cab driver as earlier that evening. 

"Where's your woman?" The driver asked casually as he pulled away from the airport and headed for the main road. Erik didn't respond, but sank back into the seat. The driver didn't push the question, and silently took Erik back to his apartment. By the time they arrived outside the gate to the yard, violent rain was lashing against the windows of the cab and Erik couldn't see past the front of the vehicle.

He paid the driver the last of his money, and stepped out into the rain. His hair instantly plastered to his forehead and a flood of water cascaded down the back of his neck, and he darted for the gate. After almost slipping on the steps as he ran up to his door, he was very grateful to step into the warmth of his flat.

Before even removing his sodden jacket, he set his phone on to charge. He kicked his shoes off as the screen lit up, and was just hanging his jacket up on the hook behind the door when his phone shook with several text notifications. 

Erik almost tripped over his own feet as he lunged for the phone. Apparently all of the texts were coming through at the same time, and the constant tinny notification sound was rattling Erik's brain. 

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ I want to hear you screech. I'm sure it's endearing. x _

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ And I love you too. x _

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ I'm outside the gate now. Where are you? x _

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ Eriiiik? x _

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ Where are you, darling? x _

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ I brought you a present and everything! x _

**> > ** Charles [20:03]   
_ I'm going to get a taxi home. Call me. x _

Erik fumbled with his phone as he desperately keyed in Charles' number. He pressed the phone against his ear, ignoring the wet slide of his hair, and waited as it rang.

" _ Erik? _ "

"Charles." Erik breathed with relief. He had never been so pleased to hear someone's voice. "You're alive."

" _ Alive and very wet _ ."

"Wet?"

" _ I'm outside the shop. Where the hell are you? _ "

"I'm..." Erik's blood ran cold. Charles was outside in the rain, and he was just upstairs. "I'll be there in a minute, liebling."

" _ Hurry _ ."

Erik practically leapt down the stairs to the shop, keys in hand. He almost stumbled when he stepped into the main room, and saw Charles in the doorway. His forehead was pressed against the glass, and when he saw Erik his face split into a huge grin.

Erik walked shakily over the door, and slid the keys into the lock. He opened the door. And, in an instant, he had an armful of Charles and he felt like he was finally  _ home _ . 


	15. Chapter 15 - Charles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest yet, I'm afraid. But SMUT!!

When Charles saw Erik walking through  _ Die Kaffeebohne _ , illuminated by the slits of streetlight that were shining through the blinds, he thought his heart was fit to burst.

He'd spent the entire plane journey nervously anticipating this moment, but no amount of theorising and fantasising could've prepared him for seeing Erik again. Charles had honestly forgotten how much he loved him.

When Erik opened the door, Charles hugged him.

He wanted to kiss Erik, wanted to feel his hands on his waist again, but he needed to speak to him about the move to LA first. Apparently, Erik wanted to kiss him, judging by the way he pressed his lips into Charles' hair and inhaled sharply.

"I've missed you." Erik breathed.

"I've missed you too." Charles could smell Erik's familiar scent, and every cell in his body was tingling. 

Charles withdrew his arms from Erik and stepped fully into the shop. Erik's arms dropped slowly to his aides, and he closed the door. "What's wrong,  _ liebling _ ?"

"Face gave me away, huh?" Charles laughed quietly and ran his hand through his hair. He walked over to his usual table and sat on it, his legs dangling off the edge. Erik walked over to him and stood between his knees, and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.

Charles smiled at that. What a softy.

"Erik."

"Charles."

They grinned at each other. Then Charles sobered, "I have something to tell you."

Erik nodded his head. "Alright."

"I have to move to Los Angeles."

Erik's hands on Charles' thighs stilled. His lazy smile vanished, and his eyes glazed over. He was silent for a few moments. 

"Erik?"

Erik blinked a few times, then looked right at Charles, his usually bright eyes dimmed by sadness. "Los Angeles."

Charles nodded, "For work. I was daydreaming in the meeting, I didn't mean to agree." He felt his eyes prickle with hot tears, and he raised his hands to grip either side of Erik's face. The familiar position made his heartache, "I’ve got a house there. It’s nicer and bigger than my apartment here, and I'm taking you with me. I don't care how crazy it sounds, I don't care what people think, and I don’t care what Raven thinks. You're coming with me. You're going to live with me. In Los Angeles."

Erik bit his lip, and Charles pressed their foreheads together. He knew his hair was wet, and it was dripping everywhere, but he needed to be closer to Erik. He noticed that Erik's hands were on his waist, gently squeezing his midriff. He could've cried. 

"I'm going with you." Erik said confidently. “I can’t live without you.”

And then, Charles cried. Erik looked like a startled deer. They'd only cried in front of one another once before, on the day they met, but Charles had never cried in front of Erik out of happiness. He wondered if Erik knew the difference.

"Charles? Are you alright?"

No, he didn't know the difference.

"I'm just happy, Erik." Charles choked out. He pulled back from Erik so he didn't cry on his face, and released his grip so he could wipe the tears from his own cheeks, "Thank you."

Erik's face contorted into a concerned smile, and he squeezed Charles' waist, "Fuck, Charles. I love you so much."

"I love you too." Charles said honestly. And he did. He loved Erik more than he could put into words, and he knew deep in his soul that there was no way he could live without this man in his life. 

"How long have we got?" 

Charles steadied his breathing, "A week. Maybe less."

Erik wet his lips with his tongue and inhaled, "We'd better make the most of it, then." Erik pushed forward and captured Charles' lips in a kiss that both of them had been waiting far, far too long for. 

The first time they kissed, it had been hot and desperate, and too long in the waiting. Charles expected something similar to that when Erik moved towards him, but the gentle press of their lips wasn't what he was expected at all. One of Erik's hands moved to Charles' upper back, and he felt himself being lowered down to the table. 

Erik hardly broke the kiss as he lowered Charles, and only split away for a second as he climbed onto the table and straddled Charles' thighs. 

Charles usually kept his eyes closed during kissing, but he opened them this time. Erik was bent over him, his muscled arms now on either side of Charles' head as he gently kissed him. Charles could still feel dried tears on his cheeks, and knew that they were threatening to spill again. He'd never felt more comforted by another person's presence. 

"Erik." He mumbled into the kiss. Erik withdrew an inch and opened his eyes.

"Charles?"

"You know I love you, right?"

Erik laughed softly and pressed one quick kiss to the tip of Charles' nose, "Of course I do. You keep saying it."

Charles bit his lip nervously and moved one of his hands to the waistband of Erik's jeans. "Are we going to do this?"

"Only if you want to." Erik smiled.

"You're absolutely perfect." Charles murmured, in lieu of a response. This time, he was the one who leaned up and pressed their lips together. He slipped his fingers in the space between Erik's hips and his jeans, and Erik's sharp exhalation of breath tickled Charles' nose.

The mood of their kiss suddenly shifted, and Charles groaned as their mouths finally opened and their tongues met. Even that strange, wet sensation was an absolute delight to Charles, and his grip tightened around Erik's waistband. Erik moved his mouth silently away from Charles’ and kissed a soft trail down the curve of his neck, his chest bowing down towards him. Charles writhed underneath Erik, his entire body alight with anticipation.

“Erik.” Charles breathed as Erik nosed under the collar of his shirt. "Shouldn't we go upstairs?"

Erik shook his head and dragged his teeth across Charles' collarbone. Charles grabbed at the edge of the table with his free hand, his fingers curling under it. He'd never encountered a man with such a subtly talented mouth. 

"I want you  _ here _ ." Erik growled into Charles' clavicle, "I need you." He pulled back into a sitting position, and Charles stilled at the sight of Erik's flushed face illuminated by the slits of light streaming through the half-closed blinds. "Will you let me have you?"

Charles nodded and allowed Erik to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were still tucked into Erik's waistband. He moved them, and worked at the metal of Erik's jeans until they hung open and loose around his hips. The zip slid down quicker than Charles expected, and the thought that  _ Erik _ had controlled the movement only furthered Charles' adoration for him. 

Once Charles' shirt was unbuttoned, Erik hooked his hands under his arms and pulled him into an upright position. The outright intimacy of their torsos pressed together was overwhelming. Charles wanted to kiss him again. He did, and Erik gently pulled at his lower lip with his teeth.

Erik slid Charles' shirt away from his shoulders, baring his skin to the surprisingly warm air of the shop.

"You're so beautiful." Erik murmured. Charles kissed him again. 

Charles was aware that his feet were beginning to go numb from dangling over the edge of the table for so long. He mentioned it to Erik, quietly, and after some maneuvering, he was in a more comfortable position. Straddling Erik's lap, obviously. 

"We were sat like this the day we set up my phone." Charles smiled at Erik as he toyed with the hem of his t-shirt.

"Not quite like this." Erik grinned, his eyes sparkling, "We weren't wet from the rain. We definitely weren't this naked."

"We're hardly naked." Charles snorted. "You're still fully clothed."

"Let's change that."

Charles wasn't one to resist such an enticing offer. He pulled Erik's t-shirt over his head - it got caught under his chin for a second, and they were both distracted by the hilarity - then ran his fingers lazily down Erik's chest and stomach. Erik's breath hitched when he trailed one finger over the small stretch of boxers that was visible beneath his undone jeans. Charles could feel Erik's heat beneath the tip of his finger. 

"You're such a tease." Erik half-laughed.

Charles looked up at him, "What's the rush? We have the whole night."

Erik smiled, "Our whole lives."

If Charles were anyone else, he would've bolted for the door at the statement. But, instead, he wrapped his arms around Erik's neck and pressed a damp, desperate kiss to his lips.

"I love you." He murmured into the kiss, "I love you. I love you."

Erik moaned in response, the vibration running across the tender surface of Charles' lips. His hands came to rest on his bare hips, his palms hot against his skin. The surprisingly soft pads of his fingers pressed into him as he pushed his body flush against Charles’, their hips rocking gently in alignment with one another.

"I'm so uncomfortable." Erik whined, "Too many clothes."

"Take them off, then." Charles breathed, his hands moving to pull at Erik's loose pants. With some awkward movement and a lot of leg shaking, both of them were free of their pants, and Charles noticed that both of them were hard in their underwear.

They knelt and pulled upwards until their upper bodies were pressed together. Their groins met in a sudden rush of much-needed contact, and Charles made an embarrassingly loud noise. Erik laughed and kissed him again, his hips steadily rocking into Charles'. Charles exhaled in the kiss, his lips parting for gasping breath as a hot flush spread up his body, and a curling heat began to burn in the pit of his stomach.

"Erik," Charles panted, "Erik, we need..." He could hardly speak, and was thrusting his hips wildly into Erik's, the friction making his head dizzy, "We need lube."

"Upstairs." 

"Erik--"

Erik silenced him by breaking their kiss fully. He grasped Charles' chin and pushed his head back. He almost cried out in protest, but when Erik began to suck on the sensitive skin above his Adam's apple he found himself not caring anymore. 

Charles threw his arms around Erik's neck and forced the back of his head with his hand, pushing his mouth deeper into Charles' flesh.

"More." He rasped, " _ More _ ."

Erik responded by reaching between them with his hand, and Charles saw stars as a wet (with saliva, Charles noted) hand slipped under his underwear, curled around his cock, and began to languidly stroke him. 

Charles swore, and Erik only groaned into his neck.

"A-are you clean?" Charles heard himself say. Why was he worrying about that when he had a hand on his cock and a man sucking on his neck? Then again, it was quite an appropriate time to worry about things like that.

"You've already sucked my dick." Erik growled. His words were blurred together, and his gentle stroking rhythm faltered as he spoke, "And I've sucked yours. We--  _ fuck _ ," Erik swore as Charles' hips snapped up into his grip, and their bodies moved impossibly closer, "We've already swapped bodily fluids."

Charles closed his eyes, "I'm clean."

Erik pulled his hand away from Charles' cock with a slightly slick sound, and he rolled his hips into Charles' once more, "I'm clean too. I'm going to get lube."

Charles watched, slightly disappointed, as Erik withdrew from the tangle of limbs and left the room. Charles hopped off the table with some discomfort, and stepped out of his underwear. He kicked them onto the growing pile of clothes, and stroked his erection lazily as he listened to Erik's footsteps upstairs. His jaw clenched as the dry slide of his hand made his movement drag. 

He dropped his hand, and waited for Erik to return.

Charles had only ever had sex with one man before, and God knows that Logan hadn't been a gentle lover. Yet, Erik was proving to be nothing like him, and it was a pleasant surprise.

The cafe was admittedly dark, and when Erik appeared in the doorway he was silhouetted by the light of the back room. Charles walked over to him, conscious of his swaying erection, and kissed him. His hand moved automatically to Erik's hip. Erik winced, and he stepped back.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm a bit bruised." Erik admitted, his head bowed.

"From just now?" Charles laughed, "I wasn't  _ that _ rough with you."

"No, no," Erik chuckled and ran his hand through Charles' hair, his fingers trailing down his neck gently, "I fell over in the shower."

Charles frowned and stepped behind Erik into the light of the back room. Erik turned, and Charles' arousal drained away when he saw the dark purple bruising that marred the pale skin of his hip. How had he not noticed that earlier?

"Jesus, Erik."

"It's not as bad as it looks."

Charles raised his eyebrow. Erik pursed his lips and nodded his head slightly.

"Alright, yeah, it's as bad as it looks." Erik admitted. He beckoned Charles with his hand, and pulled him close to him, his eyes burning. Charles hissed as his arousal flooded back. God, this man could turn him on in a split second. "I’m not going to let it ruin tonight. I swear.”

“Better not,” Charles laughed and kissed the tip of Erik’s nose, “I’ve been waiting to take you to bed for a very long time.”

“Take me to bed,” Erik hummed, “That sounds nice.”

Charles nodded in agreement, “And as  _ absolutely lovely _ as sex on a table sounds, I think I’d rather have you in a bed.” He paused, “For the first time, at least.”

“That implies there will be a second time.”

Charles smiled, “And a third. And a fourth.” He punctuated each number with a kiss to Erik’s lips, “Fifth. Sixth. Seven--”

He was cut off when he was suddenly hoisted into the air. Erik grunted as he lifted Charles, and Charles instinctively grabbed at Erik’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist as the floor sped away from him.

“What are you doing?” Charles laughed breathlessly as Erik settled his weight on his hips, and turned around.

“I’m taking you to bed.” Erik replied, his voice slightly strained. Charles smiled. He lowered his head down and kissed Erik again. God, he loved kissing Erik. He could do it  _ forever. _

Erik began to walk towards the stairs up to his apartment, but he continued to kiss Charles. 

“So confident.” Charles whispered when Erik broke away for breath.

Erik chuckled, and they began to ascend the stairs. Charles refused to let Erik resume the kiss - partially because he was already far too hard in his underwear, and another kiss would send him over the edge, but also because he feared for his life as Erik took shaky steps up the stairs.

“You’re heavy, Charles.” Erik panted when they reached the top of the stairs.

Charles frowned, “That’s not exactly dirty talk.”

Erik laughed and readjusted Charles in his arms. “Just wait ‘til we’re in bed for that.”

They were in the bedroom in a few seconds, and Charles wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen. “Erik, what--”

Erik silenced with him a kiss, then threw him on the bed. Charles yelped in surprise as his stable footing vanished, and white sheets and a mattress flew towards him. He barely had time to collect himself before Erik was on top of him, his lips pressing eagerly at his own. Charles exhaled and arched up into the warm body that was hovering over him, his whole body aching to be touched.

He was in Erik’s bedroom once again, but he didn’t feel so self-conscious this time.

“Pants off, professor.” Erik said quietly as his lips moved to Charles’ neck. Charles reached down with his hands and slid his boxers down his legs, trying his very best not to kick Erik. Had he just called him  _ professor _ ?

When he was done, Erik raised his head slightly and looked at Charles with a peculiar expression on his face. Charles tilted his head, “What?”

“I wanted to do that.”

Charles laughed, “Sorry, darling.”

He watched as Erik moved slowly down his torso, trailing kisses and sucking his skin into his mouth every third or fourth kiss. Erik moved until he knelt was between Charles’ legs, and Charles inhaled. He was getting very, very close to his cock, and he could feel his muscles tensing in anticipation.

“Since I can’t remove your underwear…” Erik said quietly, his breath hot on Charles’ erection. He bit his lip and tried to stop his hips from bucking, “I guess I’ll just have to settle for this.”

Then Charles’ cock was in Erik’s mouth, right down to the hilt in an instant, and Charles arched away from the mattress, a silent scream on his lips. His thoughts were a mantra of Erik’s name, curses, and, inexplicably,  _ German. _ He supposed that Erik’s thoughts were in his head, but they sounded like his, and he wasn’t sure why he cared.

He swore aloud as Erik bobbed his head once. His tongue swiped across his slit, maddeningly slow, and Charles fisted his fingers in the sheets.

“Do-- do you want me to  _ fuck your mouth  _ again?” Charles gasped, remembering the last time Erik had had his cock in his mouth. He laughed aloud when Erik held his thumb in the air in lieu of a verbal response, but it was cut short when Erik bobbed his head again, and hollowed his cheeks. Charles took that to mean  _ hurry up. _

He waited for Erik to move again, and when he did, he moved his hips up to meet him. Erik groaned in approval, sending vibrations through Charles’ lower body. Charles felt a hand grab at his outer thigh, and he curled his leg around Erik’s waist as they moved together, slowly.

"You're good at that." Charles whispered when Erik hardly faltered in his rhythm, even as Charles' hips pushed upwards relentlessly. "So. Fucking. Good." He punctuated every word with a thrust, and the fingers on his thigh dug into his skin. 

Erik hummed around him. The slick sound of his mouth sliding up and down was making Charles short-circuit as he alternated between watching Erik and staring at the white ceiling when the sight of Erik grew too much for him. He'd been desperate to watch Erik suck him off since the incident in the storage cupboard, and it was just as hot as he'd imagined. 

He didn't want to finish from a  _ blowjob _ tonight.

"Erik." Charles reluctantly pushed against Erik's shoulders, his entire body aching when he released Charles with a sinful sound. 

Erik leant over Charles, who leant on his elbows and smiled at him.

"What's wrong, Charles?" Erik asked quietly.

Charles inhaled slowly, "I want you to make me come while your cock is inside me, and if you keep blowing me like that then it's not going to happen."

Erik  _ whimpered _ . He leant down and their teeth clicked together as their mouths met in a bruising kiss. Charles could taste himself on Erik's tongue, could feel Erik's hot swollen lips moving against his. He pressed two fingers to his temple, and all he received from Erik was a flood of adoration and arousal.

"Fuck, I love you." Erik whispered when they broke for air.

"I love you too." Charles whispered back. He dragged his hands through Erik's hair and pulled him close for another, shorter kiss. "Please make love to me." 

Erik smiled against his lips, "My darling, beautiful Charles. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

Charles froze and withdrew an inch, "Did you just quote Pablo Neruda?"

Erik blushed even more, if that was possible, and trailed his finger across Charles' cheekbone, "I was hoping you wouldn't notice, and you'd just think I was a hopeless romantic."

"I  _ do _ think you're a hopeless romantic." Charles laughed, "A very sweet hopeless romantic."

"I try my best." Erik kissed Charles again, then pushed his pelvis down. Charles' eyes widened as Erik rolled his hips into Charles', the bare amount of friction making his toes curl. He stuttered over a breath as his hips arched away from the bed of their own accord, desperate for more contact.

Charles noticed Erik was wearing underwear still. He sat up straight, relishing the look of surprise - and pleasure - on Erik's face as their bodies lined up, their hot erections impossibly closer.

"Pants off, pretty boy." Charles ran his forefinger along the band of Erik's boxers and snapped it against his skin.

Erik rose to his knees, his thighs fully extended, until his crotch was in front of Charles' face. Charles smiled. He'd missed being this close to Erik's clothed cock, honestly. He mouthed at the head of his cock through the thin material, relishing the way Erik's entire body jolted in response. The salty tang of precome was evident even through the boxers, and Charles gently massaged the warm head with his tongue.

"T-this is-- shit,  _ Charles _ ." Erik's hips stuttered forward into Charles' lips, and Charles smiled into the hot warmth beneath his tongue. He loved making Erik lose his self-control. He moved his mouth until his upper teeth caught on the edge of Erik's boxers, and he tugged them down with his teeth. The soft curls at the base of Erik's cock tickled his lips and he smiled, even as it became more difficult to move the material with his teeth. 

"You look absolutely gorgeous." Erik cooed from above him, his voice slightly shaky.

Charles laughed breathily and spoke around the material in his mouth, "It's quite hard."

"You don't need to tell me that." Erik chuckled. Charles smiled again as Erik's cock was revealed inch by inch. He could smell Erik's raw scent, and it was making him light headed. 

Charles exhaled onto the tip of Erik’s cock once he was free from his underwear, and pressed his lips to it. Erik swore and a hand flew into Charles’ hair, fingers lacing through his locks. Charles pursed his lips around the glans and pressed his tongue against the slit, the salty taste of precome filling his mouth. He suddenly understood why Erik liked the taste of it. He could grow to enjoy the flavour.

He did want to suck Erik off. He really, really did. But, the second he dipped his head, Erik snapped his hips back and moved his hand to Charles’ forehead. He moved until he was no longer straddling Charles, and was just knelt next to him on the bed.

“Why’d you do that?” Charles asked quietly. He lifted his gaze and saw that Erik was staring at him through lidded eyes, his cheeks flushed.

Erik licked his lips, “Turn over.”

Charles’ eyes widened. Did he just…

“Turn. Over.” Erik repeated. Charles smiled, nodded, and turned until he was on his hands and knees. His cock was heavy between his legs, and he knew that whatever Erik was about to do to him would push him over the edge.

God, he loved him.

He felt hands on his arse, kneading his buttocks gently. Charles bit his lip and moved so his weight was on his elbows rather than his hands. Erik hummed appreciatively.

“What are you doing?” Charles asked when a moment passed, and nothing happened.

“Admiring the view.”

Charles looked over his shoulder. Erik was rubbing soft circles into his arse, smiling fondly at the movement, “Fuck you!” Charles laughed.

The laugh had barely passed his lips when there was a tongue pressed against his arsehole. Charles yelped and jolted forward, his head pushing into the mattress. He moaned Erik's name, and, as if on cue, Erik pushed his tongue into Charles. 

Charles had never had a mouth anywhere near his arse before. Fingers, sure. A cock, sure. But not once had he ever allowed a person to put their mouth that close to his arse. He'd always been too self conscious, and too aware of himself to be able to enjoy it. He supposed that that showed just how much he trusted Erik.

And, he would've pondered on the idea, had Erik not begun to thrust his tongue in and out of the tight ring of muscle that was currently alight with sensation. Charles found himself fumbling for purchase in the sheets. It was only an inch of penetration, but Charles had had many vivid fantasies about the moment Erik first took him to bed, and his imagination was fuelling his arousal.

Erik suddenly switched from his mouth to two fingers, and Charles grunted at the sudden intrusion. 

"You alright?" Erik breathed, his voice thick.

Charles nodded into the sheets, then realised that Erik couldn't see him. "I'm f-fine."

"Oh,  _ liebling _ , we want better than 'fine'." Erik cooed. He pressed a soft kiss to the cleft of Charles' arse, then crooked his fingers.

If Erik had any neighbours, Charles was sure that the sound he made when Erik's fingers first brushed his prostate would give them cause to call the police. He  _ howled _ into the mattress, and when his hips bucked downwards the pressure on his sweet spot only increased and Charles found himself chanting a mantra of Erik's name.

Erik let out a soft laugh, and he added a third finger on his next thrust. Charles bit his lip and closed his eyes as every muscle in his body tensed and relaxed with the rhythm of Erik's fingers. He could feel himself coming close to the brink.

His thighs tensed in anticipation, and he moaned into the sheets. His hips were thrusting gently back to meet Erik's fingers, and  _ God _ , that felt good. 

"You're so sensitive." Erik murmured.

Charles cried out, "I'm gonna come i-if you don't stop  _ that _ ."

And, just like that, all the contact stopped. Charles whined as his body plateaued, but when Erik flipped him onto his back he found himself not caring. Erik was knelt between Charles' legs again. His lips were cherry red, and he was smiling at Charles. 

"I've never done foreplay for this long before." Erik half-laughed as he leant over to the bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube. Charles' heart skipped a beat. "It's nice. We should do this every time."

"Not  _ every _ time." Charles whined and stuck out his lower lip, "I'm exhausted! And you barely give me chance to do things to you. Unfair."

Erik grinned and kissed Charles' protruding lip, "Next time."

Charles nodded and closed his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. He heard the snap of the bottle opening, the slick squelch of the lube being dispensed, and then the wet sounds of Erik lubing himself up. 

He opened his eyes. Watching Erik stroke himself languidly, his eyes fixed on Charles' face, nearly sent him over the edge. He'd seen Erik wank through a webcam, but it wasn't anything like the real thing. Charles found his gaze moving from Erik's face to Erik's cock alternately, automatically.

"Love you." Charles said quietly.

"Love you too, nerd." 

Charles frowned, "I'm about to let you put your cock in my arse, and that's all you have to say?" He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

Erik laughed at that, "You're so petulant. Knees up."

Charles was confused for a moment - knees up? - but then he remembered what was going on, and he bent his legs. Erik hiked one of his legs up until it was over his shoulder. Charles grinned, "I like this."

"You'll like this, then." Erik moved forward until the tip of his cock was pressed against Charles' arsehole. Charles could feel the cold wetness of the lube trickle down his skin, and he shivered in anticipation. Erik furrowed his brow, "Are you ready?"

Charles nodded. 

Erik pushed in.

It was slow. Nail-bitingly slow. Charles could feel every millimeter of movement as Erik pushed into him. The slight stab in his gut made his eyes water, but the outright blissful expression on Erik's face made it worthwhile. He looked down, watching as Erik's cock disappeared inside him. Once he was inside, right up to the hilt, Charles let out a shaky breath.

"You alright?" Erik asked, his words slurred. A bright pink flush had spread across his chest, and he was quivering.

"Kiss me." Charles sighed in lieu of a response. Erik shifted slightly so he could lean over and kiss Charles, their lips meeting softly. Charles hiked his leg up higher on Erik's shoulder, his thigh straining, and smiled into the kiss. "Move."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

Erik exhaled and slowly pulled back. Charles grimaced against his lips as his body adjusted. He wrapped his arms around the top of Erik's back and pulled him tight against him as he moved back in, his hips moving maddeningly slow. Charles felt a short burst of air slip from between his lips as Erik settled again.

Erik broke away and rested his forehead in the dip of Charles' collarbone. He rocked his hips back and forth a few times, his breathing laboured and quivering.

Charles turned his head into Erik's hair. His leg was shaking with the tension of being extended beyond its usual reach, but he didn't care. His body was finally adjusting to Erik’s overbearing presence, to his gentle movements, and could feel feel the pleasure beginning to overwhelm the burn. It felt like Charles had been placed on the earth just to have Erik inside him.

“Move.” Charles mumbled into Erik’s hair when he halted his rhythm.

Erik exhaled into Charles’ skin, and he shivered, “I don’t-- what if I hurt you?”

“C’mon, Erik.” Charles half-laughed, “I’m alright. Move.”

“Charles…”

“Move.”

He did. Charles gasped when Erik pushed into him faster than he ever had before, and his hips arched up into the movement. The previous burn of the action had vanished, and Charles’ body was tight as bow strings as his muscles jolted in reaction to Erik’s thrusts. He wrapped his other leg around Erik’s lower back and exhaled into Erik’s hair.

Erik’s hips tilted and the angle changed. 

_ Oh _ .

Charles tilted his head away from Erik in surprise as his cock brushed his prostate. He gazed over the curve of Erik’s shoulder at his hips moving back and forth, in time with the intermittent bursts of sensation in his prostate. 

His eyes were drawn to the metal door handle. It was flexing and pulsing with every thrust of Erik's hips. Charles smiled at the sight.

Erik suddenly snapped his pelvis into Charles' with more force than usual, and Charles bit back a moan. His hands raked up Erik's back, surely leaving marks on his sweaty skin, and his mouth dropped open as his head contacted with the headboard. Charles swore and pressed a hard kiss into Erik's hair.

Erik raised his head at that, and kissed Charles. Their lips were parted before they met, and it quickly dissolved into a hot, heady half-kiss with their lips barely touching as they gasped for air and shared breaths with one another. Every time Erik pulled his hips back, his teeth grazed Charles' lower lip. Charles could feel an orgasm coiling in the pit of his stomach, in his lips, in every muscle in his body.

"Harder." Charles begged, "Please, Erik,  _ harder _ ."

" _ Du bist-- du bist die Liebe meines Lebens _ ." Erik suddenly gasped, his voice deep with arousal as he practically pounded into Charles, the satisfying dry slap of skin-on-skin finally meeting Charles' ears. "I love you. I love you. Fuck, I love you." He chanted.

Charles knew what Erik had said.

_ You are the love of my life. _

Oh, God, Charles had never loved him more. 

Then, there was a hand on his cock, pumping him in time with Erik's movements. Three slides of Erik's talented hand, and then Charles was shuddering, coming, screaming Erik's name, and for just a second the Earth jolted on its axis, Charles' reality splintered, and it was just him and Erik and the sounds of their bodies sliding together in unison.

Erik cried Charles' name as his rhythmic thrusts into Charles' faltered and he came, his body shivering. Charles captured his lips in a wet kiss as his body shook with violent aftershocks, and Erik kissed him back, sloppily, his breath catching in his throat.

Charles could feel Erik's white-hot arousal burning a trail in his mind, and he sighed as they came down from the high together.

Erik gave three final, slightly half-hearted thrusts, then he collapsed onto Charles' chest. Charles winced as his cramped leg was dropped quite suddenly onto the mattress, but then Erik was pulling out of him, and the wet slick sensation made him tremble and distracted him.

"Charles." Erik panted. He clambered on top of Charles, straddled his hips, and bent down to kiss him.

"Erik." Charles breathed against his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Erik sat back up. He looked as exhausted as Charles felt. Then, he rolled off Charles, until they were side by side. Charles once again found himself wondering how they managed to fit on the small bed.

Charles felt rubbery, his limbs limp and slack. He hadn't had an orgasm that spectacular in years.

"As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin." Erik said suddenly.

"Neruda?"

Erik nodded. Then, "So, now we know that the sex is good... Los Angeles?"

Charles laughed and kicked Erik's leg, "If the sex wasn't good would you have stayed here and sent me away to LA all alone? Oh, Mr Lehnsherr, so tactless."

Erik snorted, "I'm only playing. I would've come with you even if you were a premature ejaculator, Charles."

Charles sat up and rested the back of his hand on his forehead, mimicking a swoon, "Such a gallant!"

"Such a woman." Erik snarked. Charles smiled, and kissed him. Erik's hand found its home on Charles' hip, and Charles cupped Erik's face with the hand he wasn't leaning his weight on. 

He felt selfish.

In spite of the amazing sex they'd just had, Charles felt like he was one of the most awful people on the planet. He was lying to him. Lying to his face. When they'd come in unison, and Charles had felt Erik's pleasure mingling with his own, an evil voice in the back of his mind whispered,  _ You haven't told him yet _ .

Charles hadn't told Erik about the telepathy.

He sighed into the kiss. Erik pulled back and his brow furrowed, "What's wrong,  _ liebling _ ?"

"Nothing." Charles replied. He trailed his fingers up to Erik's temple, and whispered, "Go to sleep."

Erik's expression vanished and his jaw went slack. His eyes drifted closed and his head lolled to the side. Charles climbed off the bed and even though it took all of his willpower to divert his gaze from Erik's beautiful,  _ beautiful _ , sleeping form, he left the bedroom and headed down into the shop. 

He gathered his clothes from the floor, got dressed, and in a few moments he was outside on the street - the rain had ceased now, and a damp, thick coolness filled the air - hailing a taxi. He only realised once he was inside the taxi that he’d left his underwear in Erik’s room. 

As Charles stepped out of the elevator in his building he felt Erik's wet, warm come trickle out of him. He shivered as he unlocked his door and went inside. 

Once undressed again, and changed into his pyjamas, he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom.

His hair was unmistakably the hair of a man who had just had sex, and his cheeks still held a pink blush. He ran his forefinger along his lower lip, which was slightly bruised and sore to the touch.

He exhaled, and locked gazes with the Charles in the mirror.

"Maybe it's time to tell him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time: I haven't written more stuff for this fic in over a year. I have the rest of it planned out (and another 8000 or so words actually written), but my style of writing has changed quite a lot & I've moved onto new fandoms for my main fic output, so I don't know if I'll ever finish this.
> 
> I thought this was an okay place to end it, so I've finally decided to publish it. I put a lot of love into this (even though reading it back I cringe at my writing style and characterisations), and I think it deserves to be out in the world.
> 
> If you desperately want to know how I was going to end it (this is literally only half the plot - I had a lot of other stuff I wanted to do) you can message me on my Tumblr @readmymindcharles, and I'll run you through it.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	16. (BONUS) Chapter 16 - Erik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people asked to see how Charles and Erik reacted to finding out about each other's powers, so I'm going to stick this extra chapter up because I had actually written that scene before I abandoned this fic.

“Maybe it’s time to tell him.”

Erik was muttering this to himself repeatedly as he followed directions to Charles’ apartment. He was walking instead of taking a taxi because he still wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say to Charles when he arrived at his home. He knew that ‘I love you’ was on the agenda, and probably ‘Do you want to have sex again’, but other than that, he was stumped.

He figured that the walk to Charles’ would clear his mind. But, if anything, he was just stressing more. And scaring a few strangers with his mumbling.

That morning, he’d woken up in his bed alone. Initially, he had doubted that the previous evening had happened, but when he saw Charles’ discarded underwear on his floor, he knew that he hadn’t dreamed it all.

It felt so surreal. He’d slept with  _ Charles.  _ And it had been absolutely  _ amazing.  _ The way Charles had kissed him as he came, had  _ howled  _ his name, even the strange way he felt Charles’ orgasm under his skin...

He was roused from the vivid memory of the previous night by the tinny notification sound of his phone. It was a text from Charles.

**> > ** Charles [10:34]   
_ Hurry up. I can’t shift all these books alone. x _

Erik smiled as he looked at the text Charles had sent him earlier that morning.

**> > ** Charles [09:29]   
_ I live at 188 East 64th St. Apartment 902. Come and help me pack all my stuff. I’m going to assume you’re coming, and I’m going to have a tea break. Get your fine hintern over here! x _

Once he’d received the text, he’d called Hank and asked for his advice. Erik was unsure if telling Charles about his power was a good idea, and he wanted Hank to reassure him that it was worthwhile. Hank was absolutely adamant that Erik telling Charles about his power would destroy their relationship.

Erik didn't want to believe that. And he didn't want to follow Charles to the other side of the country while there was dishonesty between them.

So, he'd gotten dressed, and headed straight for Charles' apartment. It was on the Upper East Side, and the long walk would give him enough time to think. He was on 55th St now, and the tourist attractions that were native to Central Park were beginning to loom out of the crowds. 

He typed out a text to Charles.

**< < ** Me [10:36]   
_ I'm on my way. Traffic is awful.  _

A reply came through almost immediately. 

**> > ** Charles [10:36]    
_ Of course the traffic is awful. It's NYC. Now you understand the struggle I go through every time I want to visit you. x _

**< < ** Me [10:36]   
_ Good thing we’re moving in together, then. _

**> > ** Charles [10:36]   
‘ _ We’re moving in together.’ What a nice sentence. x _

**< < ** Me [10:36]   
_ More than nice, liebling. Perfect. _

Erik slipped his phone back into his pocket and tilted his head up. He was outside a bookshop. His mind drifted back to the previous evening, when he’d quoted Pablo Neruda for Charles. He had his own copy of  _ Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair _ , had owned it for years, but… perhaps a fresh copy for Charles would be a pleasant housewarming gift.

He stepped into the cool air of the shop, and walked over to the counter. There was an assistant stood behind the counter, humming to herself as she scanned books. 

“Hello.” Erik smiled when he halted in front of the counter. She glanced up and her eyes widened. A pink blush spread across her cheeks.

“H-hello.”

His eyes flicked to the nametag on her chest, “Angel, is it?”

She nodded and pulled at the nametag with her thumb and forefinger. Erik supposed that, if they were alone, she’d be twirling her hair and biting her lip.

“I know who you are.”

“Oh?” He loved being recognised by people. It hardly ever happened, and it felt like he was an actual celebrity whenever it did.

“You’re Erik Lehnsherr.” Angel bit her lower lip, and Erik stifled a laugh. “You’re the model. The really…  _ really  _ hot model.”

Erik grinned at that, “Well, it’s not all me. Photoshop and good lighting does half the work, I swear.”

“You’re still really hot.”

Angel flushed bright red then, and covered her mouth with her hand. Erik laughed and waved her down. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“But you’re so  _ famous. _ And you’ve been going around with that charity guy, too. Charles Xavier. He’s really hot too. You’re like, a power couple.”

“Power couple?”

Angel shrugged, “It’s just a term being thrown around nowadays. It's a perfect relationship between two hot people. It’s a shame you’re gay, though. You would’ve been a lovely addition to the gene pool.”

Erik pursed his lips, “I suppose so.” She was babbling, and Erik adored the way her eyes were lighting up with excitement. He supposed he looked like that when he first met Charles.

“Are you in love or something?”

Erik nodded, “Yeah. Stupid, I know. But, well, he’s  _ really hot. _ ”

Angel actually laughed aloud and clutched at the counter as her shoulders shook with bursts of laughter. Erik couldn’t help but grin along with her.

Once she calmed, she wiped her eyes and smiled, “I met him once. In here, actually. He’s really nice. You’re quite lucky.”

“Oh, I know.” Erik ran his hand through his hair. 

He thought it was quite a coincidence that he and Charles had both independently ended up in the same bookshop. But, then again, they were a very good match for one another, and it only made sense that they’d flock to the same shops.

Then he remembered why he was in the bookshop at all, “I’m looking for a book for Charles, actually.  _ Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair.  _ It’s by Pablo Neruda.”

Angel babbled to Erik about Charles - and himself - while they hunted for the book, and Erik found himself growing warmer with every word that fell from her over-excited lips. He’d never quite appreciated how much Charles had an impact on his life until he heard another person talking about him, and he found himself able to contribute to a conversation about Charles with ease.

He decided as he handed over his money for the book that he was going to tell Charles, regardless of the potential consequences. 

Once he’d bought the book - and, quite carefully, signed his name above Angel’s collarbone - he returned to the street, and set his course for Charles’ apartment once again. 

He passed another building similar to the Nomura that had a poster on the side with Charles on it, and he grinned up at it. Charles really did look good up there, standing tall against the city.

“He’s not exactly tall in real life.” Erik muttered to himself, smiling evilly as he stepped onto 64th St. He'd briefly looked up the apartment building on Google maps, and he recognised it on sight.

The foyer of the building was nothing like he'd imagined. The floors were marbled, along with the walls and the ceiling, which was supported by thick pillars carved into intricate designs. His eyes tracked the swirling grooves in the shining stone, following them up to the ceiling and across the room. 

"Mr Lehnsherr?"

Erik started at the sound of his name. Behind the front desk - also marble, he noted - there was a young man with silver hair. He waved Erik over.

"Are you Mr Lehnsherr?"

Erik nodded, "That's me." He had barely reached the desk when the man held up a key. Erik glanced at his nametag. Pietro. What an odd name. 

"The key to room 902. Mr Xavier asked me to send you up right away." Pietro grinned as he handed over the key. He looked like he was barely eighteen years old, but he sounded like a seasoned chauffeur. From the colour of his hair, Erik assumed he was putting the rich accent on for the sake of his job.

"Thank you, Pietro."

"Not a problem, sir."

Erik dug around in his pocket for a dollar bill and slid it across the counter. Pietro smiled even wider, if that was possible, and tucked it into the breast pocket of his suit.

"Thank you, Mr Lehnsherr."

"Erik, please." Erik waved him down, "I'm sure you'll see me a lot over the next few days, and I'd hate for you to call me Mr Lehnsherr in front of Charles." Pietro only nodded in response and directed him towards the double doors of the elevator.

Erik stepped into the elevator and stared at the buttons.

"Floor 9!" Pietro called, his head barely visible from behind a pillar. 

Erik voiced his thanks as he pressed the correct button. The double doors slid shut, and they began to move upwards, soft music humming through invisible speakers in the walls. He had barely stepped from the elevator when his phone alerted him of a text. 

There were only two doors in the foyer beyond the elevator; 901 and 902. Erik walked over to 902 as he pulled up the received text on his phone. 

It was Charles. Of course. 

**> > ** Charles [11:03]   
_ The traffic can't be THAT bad. Where are you? x _

**< < ** Me [11:04]   
_ I'm stood outside your door.  _

Erik held back a snort of laughter when he heard a loud thud and the sound of Charles cursing erupt from within the apartment. He listened carefully as Charles ran across the floor, his footsteps getting louder and louder as he approached the door. 

The door swung open.

Erik could've fainted.

Charles was stood in the doorway, backdropped by the bright midday sun that was streaming into his apartment from the solid glass walls behind him, dressed only in a plain white shirt that Erik recognised as his own, and a pair of tight white boxers. His hair was stuck to the sides of his face with sweat. 

He looked delightfully fuckable. Erik wanted to throw him against a wall. 

"Are you alright, Charles?" Erik asked sweetly. Charles smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Erik blushed, then allowed Charles to pull him into the apartment. He barely managed to shove the door closed behind him before he was dragged away from it.

Charles' apartment was even more unexpected than the foyer of the building, if that was possible. The walls were mostly glass, from floor to ceiling, and Erik could see a balcony behind an open sliding glass door, the gossamer curtains on either side of the door drifting into the air with the gentle breeze that was coming through it. There were piles of books on every surface and several completely filled bookshelves, which Erik expected, but he didn't anticipate the total disarray of the place.

"It's a bit messy." Erik jabbed as he shrugged off his jacket and walked around the room, stepping carefully around the cardboard boxes filled with belongings. He’d always imagined Charles to have a perfectly tidy home, especially considering his ‘casual’ dress style consisted of a shirt and tie, and occasionally a waistcoat.

“Well, yes. Stripping an apartment of your belongings  _ will  _ make the place a tad untidy.” Charles huffed as he poured out two glasses of water, "Don't be so judgemental."

Erik raised an eyebrow as Charles walked over to him. He accepted his glass, and pursed his lips, "Don't be so messy."

Charles stared at him, his lips on the edge of his glass. The corner of his mouth was twitching up, "Hi." Charles said quietly as the smile broke through. 

"Hi." Erik replied. He placed his glass gently on the coffee table in the centre of the room, and walked over to Charles. Charles placed his own glass on the desk beside him, and opened his arms for Erik, his beautiful, beautiful face split in a wide grin now. 

They met in a kiss that was all too familiar. Charles' arms looped around Erik's neck, and Erik lifted Charles away from the ground as he hooked his arms around his chest, under his arms. He grunted against Charles' lips at his weight, and earned himself a smack on the back of the head. 

Erik breathed against Charles' lips for a moment, just revelling in the warmth of their bodies pressed together, then lowered him to the floor. Charles rested his head in the crook of Erik's neck once he was on the ground, and sighed against his skin.

"What a gorgeous view." Erik commented when he looked past Charles, out of the window. If they were in a romantic film, Erik would've looked at Charles when he said that. But Charles knew that Erik found him attractive.

"Me?" Charles purred as he tilted his face up towards Erik.

Erik smiled, and  _ God _ , he wanted to fuck that glorious smile off Charles' face, "I meant the view out of your window. But, yes, you too." He pressed a gentle kiss to Charles' forehead, then Charles twisted slightly and stared over his shoulder. 

"It is a gorgeous view. I absolutely agree." Charles sighed and Erik pulled him tighter against his body. 

Erik inhaled sharply, and pressed his lips to the shell of Charles' ear.  _ Now or never _ , "Remember that conversation we had about metal telekinesis?"

Charles nodded.

"I can do that."

Then, a small smile curved Charles' lips, and he turned to face Erik. Before Erik even had the chance to ask why he was smiling, he heard Charles' voice split through his own thoughts, inexplicably resounding in his skull like Charles was speaking inside his brain. 

_ I know _ .

Erik exhaled and slipped his arms away from Charles. He took a step back and stared at Charles, very much aware of the pleased expression on Charles' face.

"You were in my head. How did you do that?" Erik exclaimed as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"You have your tricks, I have mine." Charles spoke aloud now and Erik knew he hadn't imagined the voice in his head, then Charles smiled his beautiful, all-knowing smile, and Erik had never felt more in his entire life like the world  _ bewildered _ actually applied to him, "I'm like you."

"I thought I was alone." He heard himself say. 

"You're not alone." Charles took a step towards him and placed his hands on his shoulders. Erik uncrossed his arms as Charles leant up to kiss him, carefully, then spoke against his lips, "Erik, you're not alone."

Erik pulled back slightly, "So when you said that telepathy wasn't ridiculous--"

_ I meant that I was a telepath, yes. _

Erik jolted in surprise, his hand moving to Charles' waist instinctively. Charles' voice was in his  _ mind _ . 

_ It's strange, isn't it?  _

"You can't even imagine."

_ I can. Every thought you have, I hear it. Even if I'm not concentrating.  _

Erik felt a hot flush spread up his neck. All the times he'd fantasised about Charles in front of him, and Charles had heard it all.

Then Charles spoke aloud, and the change startled Erik from his reverie, "Raven always said that she didn't want me to purposefully read her mind, but I never had to. Her thoughts are the loudest in any room."

"Raven knows?"

"Of course she does. I accidentally projected a thought on her on my first day in Manhattan and she heard me, and knew what it was." Charles grinned and stepped away from Erik again, "Honestly, she would've found out anyway. She's quite resourceful."

Erik only nodded in agreement, still quite unable to grasp the concept of Charles Xavier, the  _ telepath _ . 

"When did you find out you were a telepath?" Erik stumbled over the word.

"I could ask you a similar question."

"I realised when I was a baby and I bent the bars on my cot without touching them." Erik paused, "Well, I didn't realise it, but my mother said that was the first time she figured it out. I was only a month old."

"It started when I was 9, although I didn't realise what was happening until I was 12." Charles smiled sadly, "That's how I found out that Kurt only wanted my mother for her money. Believe me," He laughed dryly, "That's the quickest way to traumatise a little kid."

Erik frowned and reached out with his hand. Charles grasped it with his own hand and allowed Erik to envelop him in a hug. Erik exhaled into Charles' hair as they settled into their familiar positions, hands in the correct places, and Charles sighed happily. He pulled back slightly and stared down at Charles, who tilted his face up.

"Tell me what I'm thinking."

Charles snorted, "Why? You know what you're thinking."

"Just do it."

Charles hummed, then shifted his right arm and pressed two fingers to his temple. Erik suddenly remembered all the times Charles had done that same motion, just gently pressing his fingers to the side of his head, and it all slipped into place.

"Well, on the surface you're wondering why I need to touch my temple to read your thoughts." 

Erik nodded, and hoped Charles would explain. And Charles  _ did _ answer his unvoiced question.

"It just helps clear up the connection a little bit. Listening to someone's thoughts passively is a bit like listening to an out of tune radio. If I concentrate and focus my thoughts more, through the contact with my head, I can, well, tune the radio." Charles snickered, "Raven said I should shave my head so I don't need to touch my temple anymore. God, I would hate to shave my hair."

"I think you'd look great bald. A real gentleman.”

"Ha-ha." Charles drawled. He moved his fingers to his temple again, and smiled, "Your subconscious is so dirty, Erik."

Erik started at the unexpected comment, " _ What _ ?"

Charles, again, answered the question that Erik didn't ask, "There are two levels to thoughts. There's your surface thoughts, which are the ones you process, then there are subconscious thoughts. We don't ever actively register subconscious thoughts, so they're a bit different to our surface thoughts. They show our true desires." 

"How do you know all this?"

"Lots of research." Charles pursed his lips, "Your subconscious wants to have sex with me."

Erik laughed at that, because it wasn't  _ just _ his subconscious that wanted to have sex with Charles. He opened his mouth to say that Charles was losing his touch, but he was cut off quite abruptly by Charles' lips on his, by Charles' hand on his ass, and although his body and brain short circuited for a second, he quickly regained control over himself.

He focused his thoughts and said what he’d wanted to say. Charles actually hissed into their kiss and squeezed Erik's ass.

"That's not a punishment. It won't shut me up." Erik breathed against Charles' lips, just before his mouth was temporarily distracted by Charles' talented tongue, "I can't be silenced."

_ No, but I can fuck you so hard into that couch that you can't think straight, let alone sass me. _

Erik allowed Charles to push him backwards, relishing the way Charles' teeth caught on his lower lip as they were pulled apart with every step. Erik continued to tease him with his words, even as he was forced down onto the couch and found himself with a lapful of Charles. 

"Who says I want you to fuck me at all, let alone so hard I can't think?" Erik gasped as Charles ground into him, his hips circling slowly.

_ Your filthy subconscious says you do. _

Erik grinned as Charles moved his mouth to Erik's neck and began to suck and pull at the skin, knowing full well that Charles was right, as per usual.

And, later, after Charles had absolutely fucked Erik until he couldn't think straight on damn near every surface in the front room, Erik could only focus on the fact that Charles' hard work sorting all his belongings into neat piles had gone to waste. 


End file.
